The Underside of Earth
by loss4words
Summary: What happens when two separate souls find each other when they aren't looking? Will Bella be able to overcome all that has happened to her and learn to trust fate and love again?
1. Prologue

"_Hey__, __baybeeee???" I use my sultry voice, the voice that always gets him. He can't say no to me with this voice, has never been able to deny it. I haven't even used the pouty lips and eyes trick yet. I probably won't have to; I can torment him easily with just the voice. He is the only person it has ever worked on, I tried it with Charlie once; he laughed at me and asked me if I was catching a cold. It was the last time I tried it on Charlie, or anyone else for that matter._

"_Bell-ahhhhh!" He yells to me from the living room, his voice has an exasperated tone to it, like he is angry. It sounds more playful to me than anything; I know he isn't mad at me. It is a rare day when he actually argues with me, it has always been this way. His family claims that we are disgustingly in love. Maybe we are, but I can't find anything wrong with that. I got into an argument with one of my friends, Mike, back in our senior year of high school. He found it unhealthy to not fight in a relationship. I think it was his last ditch effort to get into my pants, it didn't work._

_As he walks into the room I remain rooted in my position with my face stuck in the freezer, willing some Ben & Jerry's to appear. No such luck. The frigid air blasts in my face for a few more moments and I finally close the freezer door with a sigh. The look on his face as I turn to him is priceless. He is trying his damndest to look pissed off at me, he furrows his brows but there is a smirk pulling up the side of his mouth. His amusement wins out and a full blown grin breaks through, he really is adorable when he smiles like that. He lost the battle. I win!_

"_Well, what do you want this time?" Yep, he knows me too well. He folds his arms over his muscular chest and leans back against the kitchen counter._

"_I need something sweet and cold, but we don't have anything here."_

"_Bella, its January! How can you want something cold in THIS weather?" He gestures with one of his massive paw-like hands out the kitchen window and to the bleak, cold winter that is falling outside. The sky is a brackish-grey color and currently spewing a mixture of both snow and sleet, we are expecting a 3-day snow storm._

"_Look here, Mister!" I walk over to him and stand just under his chin, I raise my hand to his chest and crawl my fingers up his broad chest. "It is YOUR fault that I even like it. I NEVER used to like ice cream at all and then you had to go and make me try your hot fudge sundae with pecans. I don't really even like nuts!" He snorts at me, okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that._

"_Oh, I know of some nuts that you like, no LOVE!!!" He comes closer and starts to gently prod at my sides, forcing a giggle out of me._

_I slap at his hands. "Alright, alright.__I set myself up for that one. But the fact still remains that I NEED ice cream, and this house holds NONE at the moment__."_

_He sighs. "Anything for my woman! I'll run to town and get you one, but you owe me." He said that with a wink. Hmmm, I'll have to think of something fun to repay him later._

"_Actually, I think I'll come with, I need to drop a card to Emmett and Rose in the mail. Today's their anniversary, but I am just now getting it out to them. Better late than never, right?" _

_He nods at me. "Okay, but go put on a sweater; the temperature has dropped a good ten degrees in the last couple of hours. There is a major front moving in."_

_I run upstairs to our bedroom and into the closet. After rifling through my side, I don't see anything that looks comfortable, so I move to his side and pluck out a dark brown knitted sweater. He's had it for a long time, something I bought for him years ago, and it is well worn and comfortable. I quickly pull it down over my head and torso. I also pull my winter boots from the closet. Somehow, I have gotten by this far into the winter without having to wear them, but it looks downright blustery out there._

_I trudge a bit heavily down the stairs and walk over to the front door. I retrieve my scarf from the hall tree and wrap it around my neck several times and then stuff myself into my coat. It is a bit snug with the large sweater I have on as well as my own clothes, but at least I will be warm. I don't bother buttoning it; I pull my knitted cap and fingerless gloves from the pockets and slip them on. I made them myself after watching many online tutorials and I'm downright proud of them._

_He grabs his coat and hat and shrugs them on. __"Ready to go, hon?"_

"_Am I? Pft. __I can practically hear the fudge singing to me from here!" _

_He snickers and shakes his head at me. "You are something else, you know that? You go from barely caring for the stuff to pleading with me to get some for you at LEAST every other day." _

"_WHAT? It is NOT every other day. Not even close…okay, maybe every THREE days."_

_He rolls his eyes as he grabs my hand, with his other he opens the door. I take the two steps down to the platform and feel my feet going out from under me. My bottom never touches the concrete, his hands are under me in an instant, catching me. I look up at him and smile, slightly embarrassed, he gives me a worried look._

"_You okay?"_

_I stand back upright with his help. "Yeah, you caught me. I'm fine, thanks hon." He keeps hold of my hand and escorts me to the passenger side of my car. _

_He hops in and starts the car, then pushes the seat back as far as it will go. "I wish we could take the truck in this weather, but I had to drop it off at the shop to have the tire repaired."_

"_What's wrong with the tire?" I hadn't realized it wasn't in the driveway, a bit too preoccupied with the weather and the refusal of my feet to stay under me._

"_One of the tires keeps going flat, it's probably punctured somewhere. Leah is going to patch it if she can, or just replace it if it's too bad."_

_I nod as he pulls my little four-door compact out of the driveway and onto the street. I fidget with the heat, cranking it to the highest setting. It really has gotten cold, and I feel it prick at my toes. I should have put another pair of socks on._

_We drive a few blocks, but take our time on the icy roads. The mixture of snow and sleet is really making it slick. We pull up to the stoplight that is just two blocks from the ice cream parlor; I can already taste the mixture of salty pecans, cool, sweet vanilla ice cream and smooth warm fudge. I'm brought out of my musings by a sharp, piercing noise. It sounds like a shrill train whistle, but the sound is all wrong. All wrong._

_It all happens so fast._

_I turn my head to the left, just in time to see the logging truck come slamming into the driver's side door. Into my husband. I feel like I am stuck in a slow-motion sequence of a movie._

_I reach out for him, only to grasp at air._

I sit up in my huge bed, panting and covered in sweat, my arms are still out in front of me reaching for him. I had the dream again. I knew it would come again, but so soon? It has been coming more and more frequently. And of course I know why, but even after it is gone and past, will they go away? Will they crawl back to that little closet in my mind and give me some time to recover, or will they continue to haunt me, and not allow me to get on with the day to day things in life?

I thought I'd been getting better. Apparently not.

I glance at the alarm clock on his side of the bed. It mockingly tells me there is yet another two hours before the sun will begin to rise.

May as well get up. There is no way I will be able to go back to sleep after that. The dream doesn't usually get that far in. I have a sneaking suspicion it is because of today's date. Well, of course it is because of today's date.

I head downstairs and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. His toothbrush is still there, collecting dust particles and just looking lonely. It should have been thrown away. I'll throw it away, but not today. Nobody can ask me to throw it away today.

That leads me to think of all the people I will have to see and talk to today.

No, it is too early in the morning to meander down that train of thought. I walk into the kitchen and prepare Mr. Coffee, my best friend, to deliver me some Colombian brew. French Vanilla liquid creamer comes in second place in my heart. Some days, I think I could drink that stuff alone. Almost. Okay, not really, but sometimes I think about it.

While I wait for the coffee to brew, I make my way into the living room. Outside the window, I can see the rain falling. It's going to be a chilly day. Not nearly as cold as this time last year, but cold all the same. I pull back the grate on the fireplace and arrange some fresh kindling and light it. After stoking it for a few minutes and placing a few logs on top I replace the grate. When I'm sure the kindling won't just burn out and the logs begin to smoke I return to the kitchen for my long awaited coffee.

I pour myself a cup and give my Colombian some French Vanilla love then head back into the living room. I sink into the worn leather chair and click on the lamp that sits beside it; I pull his aunt's homemade afghan across my legs and pick up my tattered copy of Wuthering Heights from the side table and read.

The fire is warm and I notice the words begin to swim on the pages. I don't want to fall asleep again, not after the dream and how far my unconscious mind took me in this time around. I set the book aside and grab my laptop off the floor. I've had a lot of time to myself this past year, and I've never done well with idle hands, so I have really gotten good with my knitting needles. After Rose saw a pair of fingerless gloves I made a while back, she made me promise to make her a pair. I have yet to, so I guess now is as good a time as any to pick something out. Besides, I 'm not quite ready to go back to work; not sure the inspiration will ever return.

Work is another thing entirely. I am an artist by trade, and have an eternal love/hate relationship with oil paints and canvas. I have made enough money in the last six years selling my paintings that I have not had to work in the last year. I could probably get by for another year, at least, without picking up a brush. It may take me just that long to be able to actually do it.

Besides my own money, there's also the life insurance money. But I haven't touched that, and don't plan on ever touching it.

I cringe at the barrage of images that flood my memory. Enough of that.

I log onto Ravelry and start my search; this site is truly fantastic. You can just go from picture to picture, and I do, looking for just the right Rosalie kind of glove. I don't even feel myself slipping this time.

Glass shattering, metal crunching like a fist crunches paper. The metal skid of the car being pushed along pavement. PAIN!

_Pain._

_Pain._

_Numb._

_Total numbness._

_Where is he? _

_I can't see you,__ b__aby! Where are you?_

_Arms out in front._

_I'm trying, but I can't find you. It's so dark!_

"_Goodbye, Bella. I'll love you for always and take care of him. Be well, my wife."_

"_No! Stay with me! Please! Take care of him WHO? WHERE ARE YOU?"_

_Hands, the hands are all over me, and I can't fight them away._

_So I let the black consume me, with hands still grasping at me._

"_BELLA!"_

I jump at the shouting of my own voice and realize that I once again fell asleep. And dreamt that dream. My laptop almost falls to the floor as I startle awake, but my rarely quick hands somehow manage to catch it before it clatters to the floor.

I throw off the blanket and clamber out of the chair. I gently place my laptop back on the table just as there is a knock at my front door. I quickly glance at the clock on the fireplace mantle and see that it was now after eleven in the morning. I can't believe I slept that long.

There is another short rap on the door before it opens. I walk into the kitchen to reheat my cup of coffee; I already know who my first visitor on this day will be.


	2. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, just playing around a bit

A/N: My great thanks to PTB to helping out with my horrible comma/semi-colon fail...and everything else. And a huge thanks to SweetVenom69 for pre-reading and posing as my own personal cheerleader. You are wonderful bb!

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**Bella POV**

Four years ago I married the love of my life. I married my best friend, who I have known since I was five years old.

I have a lot of memories, but of all of them, my favorites are of us running barefoot through the water, disturbing the fish our fathers were trying to catch. They were successful half the time; we were successful the other half. That was how we spent most of our childhood, thriving in mischief.

There really wasn't ever a time when Jake and I were apart. After my mother died when I was five, my dad moved us to Forks, Washington where he got a position in their police department. He quickly became the Chief of Police and he loved his job. My half brother, Emmett, went to live with his dad, stating he didn't want to leave Phoenix. I didn't believe him, he had never gotten along well with Charlie, but I was not quite six years old so what could I say?

Dad met Billy Black not long after we moved to Forks; one day near the La Push Reservation where they were both fishing (of course) and became fast friends. Jake and I were both along with our fathers that day; Jake was just a little younger than me, and on the first day we met, I hated him. He was obnoxious from the very start; shortly after I sat down on the blanket I had laid out over the damp sand, he stumbled, and scattered my dry macaroni and construction paper. My attempts to create a magnificent piece of artwork for my father were ruined. I was angry, but got over it and finally went to play with him. It seemed we were destined to be at odds. We had just begun to get along and were playing together when he tripped over his own feet and knocked me down. He fell right on top of me, shoving my face into the mud. I don't think we had even known each other more than an hour, and I already despised him. But, being the feisty girl I was back then, and maybe still am, I waited to get revenge. I calculated my retaliation, and I got it several hours later.

Our fathers came home with a very decent catch that day. We took it all back to Billy's garage where they de-scaled and gutted about thirty fish. The guts went into a large cooler that sat in the corner of the dingy garage so they could easily dispose of them later without the stench getting too strong. Jake was emptying a large bowl full of fish guts into the cooler for our dads; all it took was one little shove. I caught the poor boy off guard and he went in head first.

My dad was furious. He scolded me and said that nice young ladies did not act like that, which immediately made me burst into tears. Still yelling at me, he had asked what had come over me, and he was right. That wasn't me; I was a quiet, shy girl. I may have had (okay, still have) a feisty streak, but I rarely acted on it. I simply couldn't help it though. Jacob brought out the fire in me and I wanted payback. It just so happened that the perfect opportunity to do so presented itself.

Billy simply laughed and told my dad to calm down. Jake deserved it after what he did to me. Jake sulked for a while, and then he got over it. We played for the rest of the day, although I kept my distance from his stinky self, and in no time, we were the best of friends. We were completely inseparable from that day on. His dad said he smelled terrible for at least three days after.

I didn't have many friends that weren't from the La Push reservation other than Angela. I'll never forget my first day of school at Forks Elementary. During recess, I had been approached by two girls, Jessica and Lauren. I was excited that someone finally wanted to talk to me as everyone else had been keeping their distance from me. The girls didn't talk to me per se, they cornered me behind the playground equipment. While Jessica lifted and pulled at strands of my hair, Lauren taunted me with harsh words and repeatedly spat on me. She told me that nobody liked me and I was ugly and poor. She said that I should go back to where I came from, but they probably didn't want me there either. They were brutal words coming from the older first grader. Hell, they'd be brutal words coming from an adult. I couldn't understand why they were being so mean to me but Angela later told me it was simply because I was the new kid.

As I got into junior high school, it was no longer just those two girls who continuously taunted me. They'd recruited a new boy in their class, James. James was cute, and I have to admit, before the hags got him to join their ranks, I may have had a small crush on him. It ended quickly though, as he was worse than the girls.

Looking back on it now, I know that there are things James attempted to do to me, that most eighth grade boys shouldn't even think about doing. He was never truly able to do anything to me, well, except for the one time. There were a number of times that I was somehow stranded alone with him somewhere, and he tried to touch me. And I don't mean touch me like Jessica and Lauren did; James tried to touch me in intimate places. The farthest he ever got was reaching up under my shirt, but his hand only grazed my bra before someone walked in.

I eventually told Angela about it, making her promise to keep it a secret. She made the promise, but she didn't keep it. She told her mom, who told my dad. I was horrified at first, thinking that James would retaliate and really start to torture me, but James got in a heap of trouble, and so did his parents. In the end, I was quite grateful that Angela had told, apparently James had a history of that kind of behavior. He and his parents had been bouncing from state to state, trying to keep the authorities from taking him and putting him in a detention center. It finally caught up with them in Forks; the state took James, and his parents disappeared. I was relieved. He was gone from Forks, and from my life, that was all I could have ever hoped for.

Angela has always been saving me; first with the two evil hags, and then James. She is even saving me now by running my studio. That first day when she caught Lauren and Jessica taunting me, she interrupted them and somehow aimed their focus toward her. The girls didn't toy with her too much, as her mom was the guidance counselor at school. Angela later told me that they had gotten into a lot of trouble over another student they used to taunt. They had to have a sit-down with their parents, Angela's mom, and the Principal. After that day, they still toyed with me, but being Angela's friend and having her on my side helped me greatly. I loved her immediately that first day on the playground; after the fiasco with Lauren and Jessica, I trusted her and she befriended me. Every day we ate lunch together and while at school, we were always together. If we had any classes together, we sat together.

She was pretty much my only friend from Forks, even throughout high school. But I didn't mind, I actually preferred it that way. I always opted for a small, close-knit group of friends over larger groups. When we were juniors, Angela started dating Ben; he became my friend too, so I guess I had two Forks friends.

La Push was my home away from home. It pleased Charlie, my dad, because it was safe there. Not that Forks was dangerous by any means, but I was watched and well protected at La Push. And being in law enforcement, safety was ingrained in Charlie. I guess I never really minded Charlie's paranoia with my safety though; I never wanted to be away from La Push…or Jake. When my dad passed away when I was a senior, La Push was where I found my solace.

My brother and his fiancé moved to Forks after dad passed, not wanting me to be alone. Dad had paid the house off, and so I didn't have to worry about taking care of a mortgage. I was eighteen, and legally an adult, but I couldn't stand to be alone. I barely ever slept there except when totally necessary, and my brother chose to have his own place, never feeling quite comfortable in Charlie's home. It annoyed me that he would choose to pay rent instead of living there for free, but I understood.

My weekends were spent with Jake and everyone else around camp fires or hanging out at Sam and Emily's place. Sam is Jake's older second cousin, and Emily, his wife. Our whole group was always there, leaving next to no room for movement in their small house, but that was my life and I was happy.

There were only a few of us girls in the La Push group. Besides Emily and me, the only others were Kim & Leah, and Leah never did like me much. That was okay by me though, the feeling was completely mutual. That girl had some kind of a complex. I just assumed it was about me being an outsider. I had overheard her having a discussion with Embry several years back about me not belonging. God love him, Embry stood up for me, calling me his long lost sister. It pissed Leah off, which made me happy, but at the same time, it made me sad that Leah felt that way about me. She retained her bitchiness toward me, and I got over my guilt.

Then there were the boys, and a lot of them too. I swore they were putting something in the food or water on the rez. All of the La Push boys, even the ones younger than me, were just huge; they towered over me. They could eat too; I had never seen four dozen worth of scrambled eggs disappear so quickly! They would have eaten Sam and Emily out of house and home if Emily had not created and enforced the "bring an item" rule. She said that if they expected her to cook for them every weekend, they had to supply some of the ingredients, and so they did. They all decided what ingredients they would bring and Emily cooked it all. I liked to make pancakes, so that was my job…and my ingredient. Emily argued with me for a while, telling me I didn't have to bring an ingredient because I barely ate anything, but I wanted to contribute. It felt nice to be able to provide something in that way.

They were my family, but now, I can't bear to think about them.

We had such good times. Jake, Paul, and Embry taught me so many things. I went from bumbling adolescent to a sleek-almost adult because of them. Jake was younger than me, but he was agile and athletic. I actually have grace in my footing and poise in my back because of them. They taught me how to surf and rock climb, rappel too. Jake even rebuilt a set of motorcycles for us. They were vintage Indians. I still have them, but they have been covered up in the garage for the last year and a half. I haven't even looked at them in the last year.

Our official seven year anniversary, or four year wedding anniversary, is today. But I hate this day. It is going to be a long and tiresome day, with many phone calls and visitors I won't be able to turn away. What is it about death that makes people want to reminisce? Dredge up all the happy memories that leave sadness in their wake? Why can't people just leave me alone? I just want the solitude, it's comforting. I really want to go back to bed.

I know Billy is going to call, and I just don't know if I can deal with that call today. I know that he is hurting too, but it will honestly kill me to talk to him today. I won't make it past saying hello to simply answer the phone, thanks to the genius who invented caller I.D.

The sleep I so greatly need has been eluding me. It mocks me. Well, the dreams mock me; taunt me with what is no longer here. I'm so tired; I just want to sleep, but so afraid to sleep because of the dreams. There won't be any relief for me even if I do sleep, the nightmares will wake me and I will stay awake for hours. That has been the cycle for the last eleven months.

Today isn't just the date of our wedding anniversary. Today is also the anniversary date of that fateful accident. Today is the day that Jake died, one year ago. One year ago today I lost the love of my life because I wanted ice cream and he couldn't say no to me.

So he took me to get ice cream.

One year ago today, I lost everything. More than just my husband and more than just myself. The life I cherished…ended.

My life stopped one year ago today.

I. Just. Stopped.


	3. Chapter 2

**Bella POV**

I feel like I am watching everything from the underside of Earth. I am surrounded by a window of glass, and I can see everything happening above and around me, but I don't move through that world anymore. I'm not a part of it. I float in my own realm where only I exist, along with my pain.

Time is slow here, like I am moving through viscous water. I try to move faster, but when I do, the memories resurface, so it is best to just go slow. I let the water set my pace. So what if I'm slow? Nothing really matters; I can't find my purpose. It is almost as if I am locked under the surface, looking up at what I can't break through. I'm supposed to emerge and breathe. I don't know if I can, or if I want to.

God, I feel as though I am suffocating; the world that I can't touch and be a part of crushes me. Every day, I feel myself floundering just a little bit more; unable to take the next step forward, only backward. Always backward.

Like these scars that I have, my daily reminders of what I have lost, and that the loss is my fault. Everyday the pull me back one step further.

Along the outside of my right arm is a long, white scar that travels from just below my elbow and up to the ball of my shoulder. This one is from the broken glass of my passenger window that sliced right into me; I had thrown my arm up to protect my head and the glass had shattered from the force of the collision. The one large piece went right into my arm and caused quite a bit of damage. For a while they worried that I would never be able to work again. Then there are a few on my legs, but those are mainly scars from fragments of glass, they look like little white scratches that never go away.

The scar on my stomach was probably the ugliest, and the hardest to deal with. There is a crescent moon scar about six inches long that rests along the left side of my belly button. The skin there is relatively smooth for there being a scar, but the scar itself is puckered in a few places from the quick stitching they had to do on it. Sometimes, in my nightmares, the scar opens up and beetles fly out of it.

"Bella?"

I jump, startled out of my head at the calling of my name.

"I'm in the kitchen, Em." I shout to my big brother.

Emmett walks in with his wife, Rosalie. He gives me a hug and steps back, not saying anything.

Rose kisses me on the cheek. "Hi Sweetie." She says quietly, soothing.

I swallow thickly. She calls me sweetie all the time, but today, the endearment is too much.

"You guys can go make yourselves comfortable. I'll be there in a second." I say, and they quickly shuffle out of the kitchen; I can tell that it is going to be a tense visit.

Emmett is my big brother, and by big, I mean big as in older and huge. He was a linebacker in college for ASU and was quite a star. He played all four years, got his degree and now runs his own successful business. He is six years older than me, but has never acted like it, until he met Rose. But even after they were married, it still wasn't enough to take the child out of him. Last year's events did sober him up a little bit, though.

Rose is the sister I never had. When Em first introduced us, I had to mentally roll my eyes. She was such the stereotypical girl Emmett always dated, but she was the first he bothered introducing to me. Rose is beautiful, a bodacious blond. All the women that Emmett had dated in the past that he actually told me about were the same kindof women. They all turned out to be superficial Barbies, so of course, I automatically thought the same about Rose. I am not a judgmental person, but I knew Emmett's type so I thought I had her pegged. I was so wrong about Rose; she is vibrant and feisty and just my kind of friend and sister. We got along after a few awkward moments of smelling each other out. I adore her, and she is the sweet to my brother's stink…so to speak.

"Jeez Bells, I knocked forever and even yelled your name a few times before finally using my key. Everything alright, kiddo?" Emmett yelled from the living room just as I walked in and leaned against the doorjamb.

"I'm fine. Dozed off in the chair for a bit," one of his eyebrows goes up, but I roll my eyes, hoping that he will drop it. To my relief, he does.

"Can I get you guys something to drink?" I ask, wanting to be polite and to also keep my hands busy.

"I'll take a beer Bells," Emmett replies. Of course he will, even at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday.

"Iced tea, if you have any made." Rose says, looking at me, but quickly turns her gaze to the window.

I muster a weak smile, "Don't I always?"

A sad look comes over Rose's face, but she nods. I have to swallow back my sob. Crying won't bid well for me right now, especially this early in the day and not with Em and Rose here. If I start now, they won't leave me alone for the rest of the day, hell, the rest of the week for that matter.

Jake loved iced tea, and if we had an hour or two of sunshine, there would be sun tea for us to enjoy. Jake did that, so I haven't had sun tea in well over a year.

I can't help but think about Rose as I head into the kitchen to get their drinks and some tea for myself. Too bad I don't have a little whiskey to add to it. I'm going to need it today.

I haven't seen that look on Rose's face for some time. She was pretty close to Jake too. Jake, rose and Emmett had their love for cars in common, and Emmett did too; I can barely remember how many arguments there were about engines and which older muscle car is better, between them all. I stayed out of them, not knowing much about cars at all, but they made me laugh. They all got so heated and defensive about their favorites.

Other than the first day I saw Rose after the accident, the only other time I saw that look on her face was shortly before she and Em got married. She had been having a tough time, and Emmett couldn't get her to open up. He asked me for help and so I arranged for Jake to go out with Emmett and for Rose to spend the night with me. It was a bad night and we both ended up crying for a long time.

Before Emmett, Rose had been with some uppity bastard named Royce King. His daddy had money, an oil tycoon, which made Royce believe he owned the world, or close to it. She said that for a while, things were great between them. Royce was a gentleman and bought her things and treated her like royalty. He took her places and enjoyed some of the same things she did. He indulged her passion of fast cars and he was attentive. After a while, things started to change between them. Royce started to get a bit aggressive with her, and his temper would take quick, unexpected turns. After they had been together for eight months, Royce asked Rose to marry him, and she said yes. She thought that he was just having a tough time and things were turning around. She was wrong. He became possessive and would strike her. The final straw was when pushed her down a flight of stairs and she ended up breaking three of her ribs and her wrist. At the bottom of the stairs, he raped her, twice, and then left to go drink with his friends. When she was able to, she ran from the house, but was in so much pain that she passed out two blocks from her apartment. That is where Emmett found her, just outside his auto body shop.

She didn't tell Emmett what had truly happened to her, even with the wedding coming up. She worried that it would scare him away. That night that he found her unconscious he took her to the emergency room and never left her side. The next day when she woke up, she told him that she fell down the steps of her apartment. Emmett told me about the whole situation long after I had met her and that he hadn't believed her, but she was a virtual stranger then, so he didn't say anything. She would tell him someday if they knew each other long enough.

She told me first, but I understood why, and so did Emmett. She told me what happened over nachos and tequila and we cried until our eyes were dry. She said that it was the weakest she had ever been in her life. She had trusted Royce and loved him, and he kicked her around like trash and violated her. A part of her died that night, but a new part was also born. She was afraid of Emmett for a while after that, not just because of his size, but because he was a man. She got over it quickly though; he was always watching out for her and calling her. It was the little things that he did for her that eventually broke her down and made her realize that he was a man of worth and that he wouldn't ever hurt her. She couldn't understand what he would want with her, but he was in love with her, and what happened to her made him want to take care of her all the more. It didn't take her long to love him back, and the rest is history. They are perfect. I couldn't have created a better couple.

I re-enter the living room to see Emmett kneeling in front of Rose; they appear to be deep in conversation. I clear my throat to announce my presence and they immediately stop talking, Rose is pink-cheeked. Emmett moves back over to the recliner and I hand him his beer and turn to Rose, giving her the glass of iced tea.

I don't like the look of her flushed cheeks. Rose isn't easily embarrassed. She almost looks mortified, or guilty. Why would she feel guilty?

With barely a pause, Rose clears her throat and is back to normal. "Bella, my cousin Jasper is coming into town this weekend and we are going out. We would love it if you could join us?" She finishes the sentence in a question, unsure.

My eyes go wide and I can feel my heart begin to speed up at the implication of her trying to set me up with someone.

"Oh God. No. I don't mean like that. He's married, well, engaged. Ugh, I'm stupid. He is bringing his fiance, Alice along with him. I just thought that it would be fun for you to meet them, and to get out. That's all." I rarely see Rosalie flustered, but as she explains herself, I calm a little bit.

"It's okay, Rose, and thank you for clarifying. It's just that…" I take a deep, cleansing breath and look up from my hands to her face and give a small smile. "Nevermind. What do you have planned and for when?"

She looks to Emmett, a little shocked that I am even inquiring as to when they will be going out. I don't go out anymore. I have no desire to. I don't want to be social and meet new people. What's the point? But I also know that if I don't let Emmett know that I am alright, he is going to want to have a talk with me really soon. I really don't want to go there.

Am I alright? No. I won't ever be alright again, but I can't let my big brother know that. It would crush him.

"OH, umm, this Saturday night. We are going out for supper at Titan and then bowling, for some reason. I guess Alice likes to bowl, which should be interesting. I guess it is a disco bowl and they serve alcohol there too. Some place in Seattle."

"Seattle, huh? Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to get out for once. Meet some new people?" I can't help the last part coming out as a question, I know that they would want for me to meet new people, but I have no desire to. I do my best to plaster a smile onto my face, "Besides, I'm not really sure I can miss Emmett disco bowling." Out of the corner of my eye I see Emmett's bottom jaw drop. Rosalie hisses at him, sounding like a cat, and he shuts his mouth.

"Fantastic. I'm so glad you'll come. I think you will really like Alice. She's ahh, energetic." Rose eyes Emmett again, her eyebrow quirks up.

"Yeah, squirt it'll be fun. I'm glad you'll come with us. Do you want to ride with us? Pick you up say….five o'clock?" Emmett asks, beginning to bounce on his heels a little.

"Sure Em. That sounds good. Just call me that morning and let me know the plans a little more. Okay?" Maybe I can get sick and back out at the last minute tomorrow.

"Sounds good."

They get up from their seats and head to the door.

"Bella, if Dad could be here, you know he would. You know he's watching over you. So is Jake and.." Emmett says, his voice growing quiet and low.

Rosalie kicks him in the shin and he practically collapses. I feel tears beginning to build.

"You idiot. Shut your mouth."

"Jeez Rose." Emmett looks at me sheepishly, "Sorry sweetie."

I nod at him but keep my eyes to the floor with the traitorous tears brimming high.

"O-kay! We gotta go. Emmett wants to go to the auto show in Port Angeles and you know how he cries when he doesn't get his way."

I look up to see Rose smiling at me, trying to get past the intense moment. And I love her for it all the more. They both give me quick, impersonal hugs so I won't cry and I walk them out.

"We'll call you Saturday morning then, sweetie. Don't forget, and don't back out of this. It will be fun!" Rose chuckles and lifts one of her eyebrows at me, she somehow read my earlier thoughts.

"Sure, sure Rose. I'll go. Talk to you soon."

They get in their car and leave, and once again…I am alone.

I don't want to sit at home and listen to my phone ring all day long. I refuse to even answer the phone; I don't want to listen to all the sympathies that will spew out of the phone receiver. I just can't do it. It's bad enough that I have to remember all of that pain, but then to hear people speak of it and to hear some of them cry. I can't do it. If I do, I'll break down all over again.

I head upstairs and to my bedroom to change out of the pajamas that I've been wearing for the last two days and quickly scrub my face and throw my ratty hair into a sloppy bun. With a fresh pair of jeans and a long sleeve tee on, I am quickly on my way out the door with purse in hand, pausing to turn on the answering machine. I lock the door behind me and drop into my car.

***

Port Angeles has a good library. The library in Forks isn't bad, but the one in P.A. has a bigger selection and a few of the rare books I like. The drive takes me about an hour in the rain, but it's a nice, calming drive and I'm not really in a hurry. Once I find an open parking space and step out into the rain, I run inside through the downpour and head back to the classics section, steering clear of any of the romantics. I think today is a good day for Dante, the _Inferno,_ maybe? Maybe I should skip on to the seventh circle to get to the good and gruesome parts. Paradise is still so far off for him at that point. I know how he feels, but at least he has the chance at paradise. I don't. My paradise died.

I grab the book from the shelf and go to the corner that I like. It is in the back a bit where the older reference books are located; they don't get much attention aside from a few from the older generation. It is quiet and a perfect place to just enjoy the peace and read. It doesn't take long for me to get lost in his words.

_There hasn't been a summer day like this for a long time. The blue sky expands above me, with barely a cloud, which is unheard of around Forks. This could almost be more of a Phoenix sky. Looking around me, I see trees and the prairie grass and flowers are almost knee-high. I sit down with my legs crossed. My dress is ivory and flowy, I thought I had gotten rid of this dress, which is ridiculous since I love it. I hear my name being called, so I stand up and look around. There are trees surrounding the field, I feel safe, protected. Charlie would approve. I begin to walk, and the grasses are just tall enough that I am able to brush my palms against the grass, tickling me as I walk. The sun is gloriously warm, it almost feels like Phoenix, not that I remember Phoenix all that well._

_I hear my name again. It is closer this time and I look around again. "Bella." _

_It's Jake calling for me. I smile and call to him but he doesn't answer. _

"_Jake? Where are you?" I keep walking, this time toward the tree line, but still, I don't see him. I turn around and head back to the center of the field, the grass still tickling my palms._

"_Jake, this isn't funny. I'm getting annoyed. Where are you?"_

"_**Bella**__!" This time, Jake sounds worried and his voice is brittle; it frightens me._

"_Jake! You're scaring me. Where are you?"_

"_BELLA! GET OUT!"_

I jump, waking myself up; forgetting where I am, I look around, confused. My chest is heaving and my face is wet with tears. I look down and see Dante's _Inferno o_n my lap.

"Miss, are you alright?"

I snap my head to my right to see an elderly lady looking at me, concern written on her face.

And then, I feel like I am just suffocating, trapped and the air has become so thick. I hear the blood pulsing through my ears and I am vaguely aware that I am running. My legs work of their own accord and carry me where they choose. But I run, and I keep running.

I barely notice the cold pricking of the early spring Washington rain splattering down on me. I don't register its cold bite, or the water that immediately that immediately logged my shoes. I just follow where my legs carry me, in full panic mode.

I don't notice the thoughts in my head. For the most part, I only notice the silence; I realize my vision had tunneled and there is a tinge of red in the periphery. My throat has opened up a bit more, but that just allows for the bile to come closer to the surface. I hear my breath panting out of me and notice that the rain has begun to come down a little harder. It doesn't matter to me.

Doesn't matter to me.

My feet leave the pavement to a much softer surface. It gives away easily and I have to work harder to maintain balance. Just then, my body can't contain it, and I double over, vomiting the bile that was sitting in my throat. My legs begin to carry me again and after barely anytime at all, I feel the water.

Oh, the soothing water. If I could just be under the water, it would be even more silent. I like silence, like a blanket tightly wound around me.

The water is to my knees now and there is someone behind me, shouting loudly. I can't make out their words, but it makes no difference; my silence is so close. I move a little further into the water and feel the waves begin to lap at my waist, just below my scar. Just a bit further now, and all will be silent.

I really need silence.

I take a few more steps, with the person still shouting somewhere in the background and then I am under. Oh, the silence is so beautiful. Exquisite.

The silence does feel a bit cold, but I will warm up, and it's worth it. I can stay like this. In this silence, I can think of my Jakey and it doesn't hurt. For once, the pain is gone and it is oh-so soothing, and the silence is that blanket I have been dreaming of.

But the silence is short lived, and I hear the whispering. The sound, a shush shush shush of a little boy's voice.

Jakey, am I finally home?


	4. Chapter 3

A/N – A huge thanks to all of the wonder betas over at PTB. If you haven't seen their new site, go check it out…after you read the chap of course :) And thank you to my girl SweetVenom69. BB, you rock. Thank you for pre-reading and also acting as a 3rd beta for me when your plate is already so very full.

Music – So I completely forgot to post music for the previous chapters, so I am going to post a song for this chapter and I will put the music for the previous chapters on my profile if anyone is interested. I will also be putting it on my blog. The song for this chapter is 2-1 by Imogene Heap

Contest Plug: Come check out a new contest for something DIFFERENT…Screenplay Challenge anyone?

www dot fanfiction dot net/~thebdscreenplaychallenge

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or the characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Edward POV**

I don't know why I let Alice drag me to Port Angeles in this weather, but she wanted to go shopping. I told her I was NOT going shopping with her. She said fine, but asked if I could drive her. I caved in and agreed to drop her off, en route to the library.

So here I am, at the library. I grab a few books from the history and biology sections, and return to the atrium part of the library so I can see the rain. I truly love thunderstorms; I love Washington. There is something about the rain when it comes down, soothing in its monotonous roar and when thunder accompanies it, it seems as though things just fall into place, nature feels true and intact.

Much of the seating in the front part of the atrium is taken up, so I find a seat facing toward the check-out desk. I prefer to face the storm, but that option isn't open at the moment.

I pop the ear buds of my iPod in and lose myself for a while, reading and absorbing the music. After a while, boredom sets in with the biology book, so I move on to the history book. The storm outside is really raging now, the thunder shakes the old building and the window panes rattle with each boom; I couldn't feel more comfortable.

When I first dropped Alice off and got to the library, it was raining pretty good but it is nothing compared to the torrential downpour out there now. There is no way I will be making it to pick up Alice any time soon.

I take out my phone to call her, she won't mind shopping for just a bit longer…she never does. The call connects.

"_Yes, Edward?"_

"Alice, the sky is spewing water. You're going to have to shop a little longer. There is no way I am leaving the library in this. I'll be drenched in seconds."

"_That's fine.__ I'm not quite done here anyway.__ Just call me before you leave so I can hurry up and pay.__ Then we have to go eat somewhere.__ I'm starving."_

"Fine. I'll talk to you in a while."

I snap my phone shut just as a tear-streaked face blows by me and out into the insane rain shower.

I look around; other people sitting in the atrium stare at the door, wondering what is going on. Most of them shrug and go back to their reading, but a few still watch the door, like me.

The door is pulling at me and questions scream in my head. What just happened?

I contemplate it for no longer than a second, and then I move. I leave my iPod, phone, books and car keys behind, sprinting out of the door and into the downpour. I search for the body that just fled the library and see nothing, no one, close by.

I squint my eyes a little tighter, trying to see. Finally, about a block down and heading toward the beach front, is the person, a woman. I'm sure of it from the dark long hair that clings to her neck and from the bun it escapes. I can't tell for sure from the thickness of the rain, but I see her bend over, and then straighten again. I wonder why she bent over as I stand there for a moment and take stock of the weather. I weigh my options for just a second, to leave her be or go after her; I run after her.

As I run, I become nervous. What could she be doing? Is she crazy? The rain and air are cold; she's going to get sick...we both are. I'm not sure what else this storm is going to blow in, but I know it won't be good. Dad told me that it is supposed to get ugly later tonight. These thoughts make me push my legs faster, harder.

Why in the hell am I running through this, and after a complete stranger? I don't know, but I refuse to stop. I _can't_ stop.

It is only after four in the afternoon, but already, it's quite dark out. Every once in a while, the sky flashes bright with lightning. It actually helps me find my way and follow the girl.

After running what has to be close to eight or nine blocks, I can see the pier. The girl runs down the steps and into the sand. I push myself to run faster, still a block behind her. Just as I am going down the steps, I see her enter the ocean. What the HELL is she doing?

"HEY! STOP!" I yell as holler as I can. I'm not sure that she can hear me with the rain pounding so loudly; the thunder is also coming more frequently and it too, drowns out most sound, momentarily deafening me.

"PLEASE STOP! MISS!" I yell as loudly as I can, which in turn, is enough to hurt my throat.

She moves farther into the water, waist deep, while I am still on the sandy beach, still some forty yards or so away from her.

I watch her move in further, now chest deep and she keeps going while I am finally at the water's edge. I don't think, but just plunge right in; I try to run to her through the crashing tide but the waves are quite large and push against me. The water is freezing, and I know that I don't have much time, neither does she.

As the water hits my waist I gasp as it completely soaks my shirt. Her head goes under and I immediately panic; I dive under the icy water and open my eyes, looking for her. I feel the immediate assault of the burning salty sea water, but keep them open and search for her.

The lightning flashes above us once again and finally, I see her; she floats with her arms wide, like she is waiting for an embrace. Her long hair has completely escaped its enclosure and slowly wisps around her head, locked in the silence of the water. Her back is to me, but all at once, I can't see her again; the sky has gone dark. I keep swimming in the straight forward path and wait for more lightning to illuminate my way.

As I swim toward her, part of me thinks that maybe I shouldn't be saving her life. Maybe she went into the cold ocean on purpose. What if she _wants_ to die?

I come up for air and go back down. I can no longer see her, so I begin to flail my arms in an attempt to find her.

Lightning flashes above us once again and I see her no more than an arms length away from me. I quickly grab onto her but I'm only able to get a hold of her by the neck of her shirt, but it has to be good enough. I hold on as I claw us back to the surface and break through, gasping. She lies limp as I bring her head back against my shoulder and kick our way back to shore.

I'm completely aware of the tingling that begins to fill my limbs, what I am not sure of is if it's from the exertion and adrenaline, or the cold of the water. I kick harder in an effort to both get us to the beach and then more quickly, to keep my blood flowing. Every once in a while I kick the girl; part of me feels bad about it, but not bad enough since I am trying to save her life

I feel my legs beginning to slow, but not of my own doing. In my mind I am trying to push them faster, but know that the water is beginning to affect me. I'm not sure how she was able to get so far out as quickly as she did, but we ended up just past the end of the pier; I'm sure the water carried us out fast. My arms are also beginning to feel like jelly and my legs feel quite numb. The tide crashes forcefully into us and I figure I better change my technique or we are both going down. I move, trying to grab around the girl's waist, as I attempt to move onto my side, but then I feel big arms loop under my own arm pits, pulling us out of the water.

I kick as hard as I can to help my helper but quickly realize I don't need to as we are on the sand. The tide still laps up at us and I reach for all of my reserved energy to pull the girl further up out of the water and lay her down; I check her vitals, nothing, so I immediately begin CPR. She had been under quite a while.

"Do you know what the fuck you are doing?" A large deep voice booms directly into my ear.

"I'm a doctor. Shut up so I can do this," I reply hastely.

I work on her no more than thirty seconds and she quickly begins to expel the water; she took in a lot more than I expected.

She takes a deep breath and rolls to her side, away from me and looks up. She sees the hulking man that pulled us out and immediately starts sobbing.

"I'm…s-s-sooo…s-ss-ssorrry Em." She sobs and her shoulders heave. The large man that pulled us out shushes her, then picks her up under her arms and knees.

As he picks her up, I finally get a real glimpse of her face. She is beautiful, but gaunt. Her lips are blue and her eyes have big, purple shadows under them. She can't weigh more than one hundred pounds, if that. The man looks like he could easily toss her thirty feet in the air. And her hair is long and brown with the ends curling in its wetness.

"Shhh. Bella sweetie. It's okay. Shhh. I'm going to get you home now. ROSIE! GET THE CAR!" The large man hollers.

He starts running for the stairs that lead to the pier and I run after him.

"You know this woman?"

"Yeah, I do," he huffs out as he runs.

"You need to get her to the hospital, she's showing symptoms of hypothermia."

"I planned on it doc. And thanks. Truly." He looks down at the woman again. "Oh shit!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her eyes are rolling around. What the fuck, doc?"

I look at him, seeing the deep sadness and fear in his eyes.

"I'm following you to the hospital. I'll be right there. Drive FAST!"

"No man, I'll get her there. You don't have to come."

"NO. I'm coming."

He looks at me, nods, and then runs towards a jacked-up Jeep. I immediately run the eight blocks back to the library and inside. One of the concerned readers is standing by the door with my iPod, phone and keys in his hand. I grab them from him.

"Thanks." I run to my car and jump in, hitting the "2" to speed-dial Alice.

"_Where are you Edward, it has been an hour?"_ Alice asks, sounding a little miffed.

"Alice, I have to go to the hospital. I'll explain later. Can you take a cab to the hospital? You can take my car from there." I'll be surprised if she understands any of that at all.

"_Edward?__ What's wrong?__ You're scaring me!"_

"It's okay Alice. I'm fine, but I came across a woman in the water. I told the man who was with her that I'm coming to the hospital. I'll leave the keys at the nurse's station."

"_I'm getting a cab now.__ I'll see you there, Edward."_

"I gotta go, Alice, I'm just pulling up, and I see them in the ER drive-thru." I hang up, not waiting for her to respond.

I park the car and run into the ER, looking for the big man. He is pacing over by a sofa; a blond woman sits on the couch, with her head in her hands and watching him. I clear my throat, gaining the man's attention.

Just as he is about to speak, the ER doctor walks over to him.

"Mr. Black?" The doctor asks.

"McCarty. Emmett McCarty," his voice quakes with emotion.

"Ah. Mr. McCarty, your sister's body took quite a beating and she started to go into shock, but we were able to quickly get her warmed up again and she is stable. We knocked her out so that she can rest and so her body has time to bounce back. Do you have any idea how she got into the ocean?"

Still trying to get past the fact that the large man was that little woman's brother and just before he was about to tell the doctor that she ran in, I cut in. I don't know if he saw everything that went down, but if he did, it won't help his sister to tell anyone that.

"She fell in. I was standing inside a shop and saw her on the pier. I think she was chasing after something, and she slipped and fell in. I ran to help as soon as I saw her." The lie oozes from my mouth easily.

The doctor nods and looks down at her chart. I lock eyes with the brother, a silent conversation, begging him to stay quiet.

"Okay, well if you have any questions for me, Mr. McCarty, please don't hesitate to ask. If you can't find me, just let a nurse know and he or she will find me. Oh, and your sister is in room 227."

"Thanks, Doc." The brother replies in a soft voice and sits down by the blond.

I lift a finger at the girl's brother, asking for a moment, and run after the doctor.

"Excuse me, doctor? I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Dr. Oliver Marcus. And you are?" He sticks his hand out for me to shake.

I take his hand and offer a firm hand shake. "I'm Dr. Edward Cullen, of Seattle Children's."

"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" He asks.

I smile; I get this reaction from people a lot. "Technically, yes, but I went to college at a young age."

"Wait, Cullen? As in Carlisle Cullen? Are you his son?" His eyes rake over me, reassessing me.

"Yes, I am." I reply.

He looks me over, appraising me and smiles. "I'm happy to have you in the hospital, Dr. Cullen. If there is anything you need, please, just say the word."

"Thank you Dr. Marcus. I will only need the information on Bella Black, for her family of course."

I hold my breath while he eyes me, sizing me up. I assumed her last name is Black when Dr. Marcus tried addressing her brother as Mr. Black. I didn't get a funny look from him using that name, thankfully.

He nods at me. "Of course you can have the information that is released to you, as you know I can't give you much more than that, Dr. Cullen." I give a small nod in understanding and Dr. Marcus turns and heads down the corridor. I turn around and walk back to the brother, Emmett; he stares at me, as does the striking blond beside him.

The woman looks a little pissed off, but Emmett just looks confused.

"So, Cullen, as in Carlisle Cullen, of Forks?" Emmett asks me, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly.

"That's right, he's my father. You know him?"

"Carlisle is a good man; he worked on my father, well, step-father several years back."

"What is your step-father's name?"

"Charlie Swan. He was the police chief of Forks." The man's eyes look away from me when he says the name.

I narrow my eyes. "You're Charlie's son? My dad was torn up about your dad for a long time."

I couldn't be sure, but his eyes almost appear to go a little glossy. The woman with him softens up a bit and lays a well-manicured hand on his shoulder.

"I wasn't always close to Charlie, but he was a good man, and he took very good care of Bella. Excuse me a moment." He walks over to the nearby ER station and grabs a tissue. I take that as my cue to introduce myself, and to give Emmett a few moments to compose himself.

I offer my hand to the woman. "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen."

She takes my hand, shaking it, rather firmly I might add. "Rosalie Hale-McCarty. A pleasure. And thank you for saving our Bella."

_Our Bella?_

Emmett rejoins us and I address them both, "Look, I hope you don't mind me speaking up like that, but I did it for the sake of your sister. I don't think she or you really want to deal with a psyche evaluation right now. And if I had let you tell the truth, that is where it would have gone."

"No man, I appreciate it. That is not what Bella needs right now. She's just having a really bad year," his voice is back to booming and loud.

I nod, but then feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see Alice looking up at me, her face is one big damn question mark.

"Hey Al." I'm relieved to have her here.

"Hey yourself. What's going on, Edward?" She asks; she still sounds a little peeved.

"Alice?" Rose asks from behind us.

Alice peers around my shoulder at the calling of her name.

"Rose? What are you doing here?" Alice looks confused. Heck, I'm confused. She knows them?

"Dr. Cullen..." Rose begins to say.

"Edward," I cut in.

Rose nods. "Edward helped us tonight, with Emmett's sister."

Alice looks at me, and then at Emmett. "What happened, Edward?"

Now they are all looking at me.

"Why don't we have a seat and I will tell you, she will probably be sleeping for a while. Actually, I am going to get us a private lounge to wait in. I'll be right back."

I approach the nurse's station and introduce myself. The nurse practically falls over herself when she hears my last name. My father is _that _well known. We have a private waiting room in minutes. We all grab something to drink, coffee for me, and sit down on the two sofas that face each other. Alice pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and places it over my legs. I hadn't paid attention to it until now, but the cold really is settling in on me.

"Okay, first I have to ask how you two know each other." I motion between Alice and Rose.

Alice looks at me. "Edward, this is Jasper's second cousin, Rose."

I haven't met much of my future brother-in-law's extended family, but now the features do look familiar. "I see. Okay."

"Alright. I'm just going to start at the beginning." And so I tell them what happened from the beginning; I was in the library when I saw a crying person flying by me and out into the rain. I couldn't NOT do something. So I went after them, and only realized it was a woman after I followed her for some eight blocks. I told them how she ran all the way to the pier and down the steps to the shoreline. I told them how I yelled, begged for her to stop, and how she gradually went under water.

I could feel my hands shake, and Alice must have seen it, as she grabbed my right hand and gripped it. I looked down, trying to gather myself.

Looking back up, I found the tear filled eyes of Emmett. I kept going. "I've never been that scared. Ever. I thought she was gone. And then the lightning flashed when I was under the water, looking for her, and she was right there, floating in the stillness. So I grabbed her and pulled us to the surface. I don't think I had ever been so thankful of lightning, especially when submerged in water."

I look at Alice, and she gives me a limp smile.

I look over to Rose to see the tears doing their free fall down her porcelain cheeks, and then back to Emmett, as he finally loses the battle with his own tears. I take a deep breath and let my head fall into my hands, and then before I know it, Emmett has me up off the couch, hugging me in his bear hold. Sobbing.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. She would have just…she would have died. I can't lose her too," Emmett mumbles into my shoulder.

He lets me go and grabs onto his wife.

I look at Alice again and even she has tears streaking down her cheeks. I sit down and wipe them away with my thumb and hug her.

"I'm going to call mom and tell her that we are not going to be home tonight. Maybe I could run back to Forks and get clothes and such for everyone?" Alice looks to me, and then to Rose.

"That would be great Alice, thanks."

"Al, is the weather okay to drive in? I don't want to be worrying about you all night." I say. I have had enough worry to last me quite a while, thank you.

"No, the weather is fine now Edward, back to a drizzle. I think it is supposed to pick back up, but not until later on," Alice says as she hugs me once more and turns to the McCarty's. "Would you like to me to get something for you?"

Rose fishes their keys out of her purse and hands them to Alice. "That would be great of you Alice."

As Alice gets the directions to their house, I walk over to the windows that overlook the ocean and stand beside Emmett. He looks at me and nods, deep emotion shining in his eyes. I simply nod back, not sure what to say.

"I'm going to go and see what I can find out," I say to him as I stare out the window at the drizzling rain.

Emmett nods again. "That would be great, thanks." He turns back to gaze out the window as Rose comes to stand beside him, she slips her hand into his. I quickly turn to leave the room and give them privacy.

Whatever it is they are going through, I can help them. I want to help them, I want to help _her_.

The doctor told us earlier that Bella is in room 227, but before I go in there, I want see if I can find out anything about her. I'm not allowed to look at her file, but I wonder if I stand around the nurse's station long enough, if someone will say something that I can eavesdrop on. Pathetic, I know. There is just something about the look I saw on her face, and on her brother's as well. It seems like there is something else going on. I am sure that if she was ever treated for anything in Forks, it was either under the care of my father or Dr. Gerandy.

I locate the nurse's station close to Bella's room and find it empty. I look around a bit, attempting to locate a nurse, but the halls are quiet. I don't even hear voices coming from any of the patient's rooms. I walk back to the station and wait a few minutes, but still, no nurses show up. My hands begin to fidget so I pick up a pen to play with. I twirl it around my fingers for a minute and think about the day; what a crazy day. The pen drops back onto the station desk and lands on the corner of a file with her name on it. I look back up and around myself, checking the halls for anyone, but it is still quiet. Really, I shouldn't look. Getting caught wouldn't result in anything good, but I need to look. I quickly snatch it up and dart down a hall to find a dark corner to hide in. The folder flips open to the first page, it shows the usual stuff: her contact info, her address, date of birth and such; regular stats and any of the notes the nurses want acknowledged. The second page is related to today's admission and I read a little, but it says what I already know. Her file is thick, much thicker then I expect. I read a few pages and see that she must have been a clumsy child, and on the next page, I see some photos. It looks like her upper arm and some stitching done on a large gash. I flip to the next page, but then I notice that she has a surgical procedure tab.

I steal a glance around, feeling slightly guilty, but then I look. I can't help but look. Just as I open up to it, a nurse walks past me and turns into the nursing station. She thumbs through folders and papers on the desk, looking for something and muttering under her breath. Not finding what she was searching for, she quickly strides down the far hall toward Bella's room. I dart over to the station and set the file down. I don't have permission to be reading it, and thankfully, wasn't caught doing so.

Taking a chance, I flip back to the procedures tab one more time and now, it opens up closer to the middle. There are x-rays, CT reports and pictures of a surgery while in progress. It's quite sobering, and suddenly, I don't want to read her file anymore. I want as far away from her file as I can get, and closer to her in that room. I close the folder and put a few papers and other folders over top of it in case that is what the nurse was looking for in the first place.

Just like the pull to run out of that library and towards her, I feel that here, now. And before I realize I even took a single step, I am standing in front of room 227. My heart thunders in my chest as I put my hand on the door, and slowly, push it open.

There she lies, her small form the large hospital bed. The bed sits in the center of her private room, and only the muted light from a lamp lights her face. Besides the usual beeping of the machines, the room is silent. She only has an IV hooked up to her and several thick blankets covering her to keep her temperature up. There is no foil over her, so she must be retaining her body heat well.

I walk to the foot of her bed and lift the covers to check her feet, dragging my finger from heel to toe, up the bottom of her foot; it twitches, as does the other. Circulation is fine. I was worried about that after the cold of the water. I grab her wrist, and check her pulse. Golden.

Why do I feel so nervous? I saved this woman's life, just like the many others I have saved. I haven't ever been nervous around them in the quiet of their room.

_But you've never felt like this about any of the other lives you've saved.__ Have you?_

And now I'm hearing voices. But it's true; I've never felt the need to go against the rules and sneak peeks at other patient's files. Why do I feel like this?

As I look at her, it feels like my heart is clenching in my chest and like my stomach has gone to live in the upper part of my esophagus. This woman stirs things in me that I haven't felt for some time, and never before with this magnitude. I don't believe in love at first sight, but what exactly is this?

I pull the chair over closer to the bed and sit down. After just a few short minutes, I notice that her heart rate has sped up a little bit. And then she starts panting, like she is running again. She starts making little whimpering noises, and it has to be the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard.

Not thinking, I take her hand, and a jolt goes through her, making her back arch of the bed a little. My eyes go wide, and then I feel my hand begin to tingle, but she calms a little. I hold her hand a bit longer, and when she has completely calmed and her heart rate is back to normal, I put her hand back on the bed.

She begins to whimper again, but her vitals don't change. She lets out a little gasp then her eyes fly open. That shouldn't be possible as heavily sedated as she is.

She sits up in the bed.

"JAKE!" It comes out of her breathy and she takes a weird chesty inhalation and falls back to bed, back to slumber.

It scares the shit out of me. Really, what was that? The look in her eyes was indescribable, like she was here, yet vacant.

I run out into the hall to find Dr. Marcus. I search for a while, then finally find him and tell him what happened.

"Dr. Marcus, I was just in to see Bella Black. Something odd happened."

"What has happened, Dr. Cullen. Is something wrong?" He makes to move toward her room, but I grip his arm to stop him.

"She is okay, but oddly enough, she sat up and said someone's name. I think she was dreaming, but you said you sedated her."

He nods, "I did, heavily at that. She must have been having one hell of a dream. I will check on her soon, and after that, her family may see her. I will come to the lounge and let them know when."

I take my time on the way back to the lounge, once again, plagued by the days events. I mostly wonder what the woman had gone through to push her so far over. When she ran out of the library she looked vacant, kind of how she looked when she had screamed out just minutes ago. What happened to her? And who is Jake? Questions run rampant through my brain, but there is one single question that scares me the most. What if I hadn't been there to go in after her? Would someone else have gone after her, or would she be gone, to the bottom of the deep ocean to never return.

I reach the door and pause before turning the knob, a shiver goes through me. I feel cold from the inside out... What do I tell her brother?

All of a sudden, a hand grips my shoulder and I jump, not expecting it. I turn to see Rose behind me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, Edward. Are you alright?" she asks me, the concern apparent in her eyes.

I let out the breath I had suddenly taken when I was startled. "It's alright, Rose, and yes, I'm fine. How are you holding up? How is Emmett?"

"He's scared shitless, and so am I. These are the greatest two people I have ever known, and what they have been through already, just isn't fair. I love them both more than you can attempt to measure," her voice begins to tighten up in emotion.

I hear the tears in her voice, and simply nod my head. I open the door and usher her in.

"After you." She dips her head at me and walks in. I follow behind her.

Emmett is across the large room in a few strides, standing in front of me. "Edward, how is she? What does the doctor think? Is she awake?" The words tumble quickly from his mouth.

Rose touches him on the upper arm, silencing him. His eyes plead with me, but I can't help what comes out of my mouth.

"Emmett, who is Jake?"

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A/N - Click the button...leave a review?


	5. Chapter 4

A/N - Hi Again! Sorry it's been a while, but I decided to take a lot on for some reason. Besides this story, I am also working on a short story that started out as a one-shot, and also, I am working on a lengthy one-shot for the Fics For Nashville thing that einfach_mich is hosting along with siouxchef. There are also a couple of websites that I help out with and in April, my plate got quite full. But, I have a couple of chapters written, so as long as they can get beta'd quickly, the next few updates will hopefully, be quick ones.

A special thanks to my girl SweetVenom69. If you aren't reading her story...Bittersweet Irony, do so. I love my my Bugward. Also, all my thanks to PTB. I don't know what I would do without you, really!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.

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**Chapter 4**

**Bella**

_I feel the cold of the water around me again, but I can't seem to find it in me to care. For once, I don't feel tired or sluggish; I feel like I've gotten a ton of sleep. It's nice and quiet except for a small beeping in the background._

_Looking around, I realize I'm back in the water, but it's not the same water. This water is bluer, like that of Caribbean seas. I see Jake and call out to him, but my voice is all wrong and too quiet. He hears me anyway, but shakes his head, telling me no. _

_Why _no_, Jake?_

_He doesn't understand; I want to hug him, tell him that I'm coming home to him, that we can finally be together again. I have been seeing him in my dreams so often, the dreams that always leave me scared and crying, but for once, I'm not jolted awake. Why is he telling me no, though?_

_And that _shush, shush, shushing s_ound? Oh God. I can barely take it_.

_I feel a jolt. Have I been electrocuted or shocked or something? What was that? I felt a warmth and tingle in my hand, and then it just went _through _me._

_I start to see a swirl of trees around me. I'm moving fast, really fast. Looking down, I see pavement and thin tires below me. I'm on my motorcycle._

_I immediately look up at the expanse of road in front of me, searching for Jake. He isn't there, so I glance over my shoulder and see that he's a ways behind me. He doesn't usually get that far away from me when we are riding._

_I slow down the bike so he can catch up, but he keeps getting farther and farther behind me. How can that be when he is still moving and I am barely crawling along?_

_Then he speaks to me and it is like he is right beside my ear._

"_Go on without me, Bells. You have to go."_

_I look around, but I don't see him. He is no longer behind me or anywhere else. Where could he have gone so quickly?_

"_Go live, Bella. I'm _dead._ I love you."_

"_No, Jake. I don't want to live without you. I can't live without you."_

"_You can, Bella. You _have_ to, for me. Goodbye, Bella. I will always love you!"_

"_NO! JAKE! NO!"_

I jolt upright from the bed, now fully awake. I look around, taking in my surroundings and wipe the sweat - or tears - from my face. I'm in a hospital bed.

What the hell? What happened?

My heart thunders away in my chest and the door opens up. Before anyone has time to enter, I quickly lie back down and watch the door. I don't understand why I'm in a hospital.

Two men walk into the room; the first is young, maybe my age. He is dressed in blue scrubs and looks as though he took a shower recently. His longish, coppery hair is damp and slightly flattened to his head. He stares at me intently, like he can see right through me. His eyes, the color of blue-green tropical waters are piercing, and I have to look away. The second man is older, maybe in his late forties. He wears a lab coat and crisp, gray slacks; he addresses me first.

"Hello, Isabella," he says in a deep, gentle voice.

"Bella." It is the younger man who corrects him and I wonder how he would know to call me that. A bit of redness colors his neck, and he quickly glances away from me and back to the other man. The older man smiles and offers a small nod.

"Yes, her brother said that, didn't he? Hello, Bella. I'm Dr. Oliver Marcus," he says and smiles at me.

"Hi." I stop abruptly and lift my hand up to my burning throat. Why is my voice so raspy? The younger man goes to the sink and fetches a cup of water, returns to my bedside, and hands me the cup.

"Um, thank you," I whisper; I notice it doesn't hurt as badly if I speak softly. "Emmett is here? What's going on?"

The two men look at each other for a moment and the younger one looks back at me.

"Hello, Bella. My name is Dr. Edward Cullen. Is it safe to say that you don't recall anything that happened today?" he asks me.

Cullen? The name rings a bell, but I can't place it. My brain feels so muddled right now. Dr. Cullen looks at me intensely with searching eyes and gives the slightest shake of his head. No? No what?

"No, I don't remember what happened aside from going to the library. I have no idea why I am in a hospital. Could someone please tell me?" I have no recollection as to what happened. I was at the library reading and then woke up here. I obviously lost some time.

"That's fine for now, but I will want to run some tests a little later to make sure that you didn't hit your head when you fell. For now, I will let you be so you can get some rest. I will send the nurse in to do your hourly check, but I think we need to observe you for the night. To answer your question, I believe Dr. Cullen would like to speak to you about that." Dr. Marcus says as he takes out my chart and marks something down on it.

I'm so confused, and ready to protest, when I feel my toe being pinched. I look to the end of the bed, where both men stand and see that Dr. Cullen's hand is closest to my foot. This is all so confusing; I really hate hospitals and why the fuck did he just pinch me? I swallow around the burn in my throat and nod. "Okay, but I want to see my brother."

"That's fine, but Dr. Cullen has some questions for you. When he is finished up he can send your brother in. Oh, and don't forget to ask her what she was chasing, Dr. Cullen," Dr. Marcus says as he walks toward the door.

I suddenly remember running in sand. Before I'm aware of it, I blurt out the answer.

"Memories." It comes out in a choked sob and Dr. Marcus turns back to me with a raised eyebrow.

"She means a photograph. She was chasing after a photograph," Dr. Cullen quickly responds, and it makes me wonder how he would have any idea, and why he seems to be hiding something.

I nod my head at Dr. Marcus, and he walks out, closing the door to my room behind him. I turn my gaze on Dr. Cullen.

"Who are you?" The question comes out short and a little bitchy, but I want some answers, damnit.

He reaches his hand up, running it through the mop of hair that now looks more bronze than copper in color. It is no longer flattened against his head, but sticks up in mild disarray. "Do you really not remember?" His voice sounds a little raspy as well.

"The only thing I remember is running, since the doctor mentioned it. But there was no photo involved. I do remember that," I tell him, searching his face for answers.

He nods. "I'm not sure you want to remember this. Actually, I'm pretty sure you don't."

And just like that, I remember. Well, I remember the dream and running from the library. I don't remember anything past the feeling of heartbreaking despair. I want to cry, but I don't; I won't. I may be scared, but I'm also pissed off and confused. I just want to go home; I should have never gone out in the first place on such a day. I let myself fall asleep in the library of all places, my sanctuary, but now I know I can't ever go back there.

I look down at my hands, but I don't recognize them. They twist the sheet on the bed as if trying to wring it out; the creases on my hands look angry, red. That explains me right now, angry and red. I'm startled out of my thoughts by another jolt going through me and I jump a little. I feel the pressure on my left shoulder and look over. It's Dr. Cullen's hand, and I glance up into his eyes, seeing concern. A shiver passes over my skin and he quickly removes his heavy hand. I refuse to admit that it actually felt kind of nice, comforting.

"I'm sorry, but you were hyperventilating, and I thought you were going to pass out for a second there." His voice is still raspy, but lower this time, a little more soothing.

I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders a couple of times. This is my calming method.

"Hyperventilating? I didn't notice." I pause and reach for the cup of water, sipping at it. "Okay, so I remember now, but what is this business about a photograph?"

He looks at the door, over to the window, and finally back at me. "Ah, well. If I told them you went into the ocean willingly and just went under water…well, they would have wanted to do a psych evaluation on you. So, I changed the story just a tad, making you fall off the pier."

"Wait, what? What pier? And why would I go swimming in the ocean in January?" Ouch, I need to keep my voice down because my throat is killing me.

"I thought you said you remember?" He says, sounding as confused as I am.

I look over at him, studying his expression. There is confusion written all over his face. "Well, I guess I need to hear your version. There are obviously holes in mine."

Before he has a chance to speak, a nurse walks in and over to my bed. He walks over to the door and stops, turning back to look at me.

"We'll talk more about this later. I'm going to send Emmett in," he says and walks out.

I'm a little annoyed that he didn't just stay and tell me everything. And why is he throwing my brother's name around like they are best buddies or some shit? I'm obviously missing some key information. Why can't I remember anything else?

The nurse asks me some questions: how do I feel, do I need to use the restroom? I'm not sure if I am even answering her with intelligible answers, but she seems satisfied and walks me into the restroom, telling me to holler when I'm finished.

I don't really have to go to the bathroom, so I just stand in front of the sink, with that God awful mirror reflecting a so-called image of me. It's frightening how much it resembles the inside of me at this moment. Utterly lost and empty; if it were possible to pull my head back and look down inside my body, it would be found empty, black. The irony in that doesn't go unnoticed.

My legs begin to wobble a bit so I flush the toilet and wash my hands and face so the nurse thinks I went, and call for her. The cool water is a little refreshing and wakes me up just a bit.

When the door opens up, Emmett is sitting at the end of my bed. He looks like hell and my heart breaks knowing that I am probably the reason he looks this way. He stands up and takes the two short steps to me and pulls me to his chest, slightly crushing me. He sobs, so I sob, because it is me that he sobs for and because I have done this to him. He has been such a great brother and he has been through a lot, too. I am causing him more grief that he doesn't deserve. After the looks that Dr. Cullen had been giving me, I know that this is something of my doing. Emmett's hold on me gets even tighter and I can't breath.

"Em." It comes out breathy, and he immediately lessens his grip, but still holds me close to him.

"Damnit, Bella. _Damnit_." Emmett says in a voice making him sound like he's close to tears.

His heartbreak sets me off and I begin to cry again, quickly becoming a blubbering mess. I can't stop the heaving, body-wracking wails that come out of me. They hurt my raw throat, but I don't care, and I can't stop. Emmett cries right along with me while rubbing soothing circles on my back.

He walks us over to the bed and pulls himself up onto it and then me up into his lap. I feel like a child, but right now it is the only place I want to be. We don't say anything for a long time while we try to calm our emotions and stifle our cries; the silence is therapeutic. After a while Emmett lets out a little huff and sits up straight, stretching. I do the same as he continues his soothing back circles; I think he is drawing shapes or something.

"When Mom died, I was so mad. Mad at Charlie. It should have been him driving the car that day, but he needed the truck to pick up lumber for your tree house, so Mom took that stupid little car she loved. Part of me was mad at you too, since it was your damn tree house he was buying the wood for. I never told anyone that. I'm not even sure why I'm telling you now. It isn't really relevant. But you should know, the anger goes away," Emmett says as he continues his circles on my back.

"It's a bit different Em...I - " I don't finish as he cuts me off.

"I know that, Bells, but I was older than you. I had a totally different perspective than you did," he says in a pleading tone.

"Yes, as I have a totally different perspective than you do _now_!" I feel myself getting angry but I don't want to be angry right now. I just want to sit like this with my big brother.

"Ugh. I'm sorry, Em. I know. I'm so glad you're here. But, I need to know what happened. I barely remember anything," I tell him, begging forgiveness.

"Why don't you tell me what you remember first, and then I can fill in the rest. But, for the best details, you should talk to Edward," Emmett replies.

"Edward? Edward who?" I ask in confusion.

"Dr. Edward Cullen, and because he saved your life." Emmett says and pulls my chin toward him. He looks down his nose at me.

Huh.

"What? Saved my life _how_, and why was he even there?" None of this makes sense.

"Look, all I'm gonna tell you, Bells, is that he was in the library and ran out after you in the torrential downpour. Please, just let him tell you the rest. I don't know if I can handle the telling of this story. It isn't mine to tell anyway. Just let him tell you and be nice. He is a really nice guy, even if I did just meet him," Emmett says as he gives me a big brother look.

I huff and Emmett squeezes me a little bit tighter. I shrug my shoulders, conceding, but I still don't understand it. Any of it. I guess that I will be finding out from Dr. Edward Cullen.

"Em, why does the name Cullen sound so familiar to me? I know the name, but I can't place it." I ask and try to push my mind to remember.

"You don't remember? I guess it _was_ a bit of an emotional and trying time." Emmett begins to massage my shoulders.

I just wait for him to go on. He seems to need a bit of time to form the words.

"Edward's father is Dr. Carlisle Cullen…of Forks. He worked on Charlie when he had the bypass," Emmett says, almost in a whisper.

Recognition hits me and I glance over my shoulder. Emmett nods at me and manages a weak half-smile. I look down and once again find my hands fidgeting, not of my own accord. Emmett starts to play with my hair, already bored of the shoulder massage.

"Wow. This…" my voice drops off.

I don't really know what more to say. Dr. Carlisle Cullen had really worked on my dad. I know he did everything he could to try to save Charlie because when he came out of surgery to tell us how everything had gone, he was crying. And we both knew doctors didn't cry. At least, not in front of their patient's families, and not like that. He actually hiccupped, and before we knew it, Emmett and I were bawling and had Dr. Cullen in our circle hug. After a few minutes he had calmed, and apologized for breaking down and being so unprofessional. But Em and I were both glad that he did; it helped us to really see that he had done everything he could.

My dad and the older Dr. Cullen had known each other quite well. Since Dr. Cullen was the chief of surgery at the hospital in Forks and my dad was the Chief of Police there, they had had quite a few conversations over the years. My dad often found himself at the hospital trying to finish reports and just check on the many people he sent there, whether from accidents or injured law breakers.

"This is totally weird. Why haven't we ever met - or seen - Edward Cullen? He looks to be around my age. Shouldn't we have at least run into him in school or something?" I'm pretty sure I have never seen him until this day.

"Well, oddly enough, no. I think he was some kind of a child prodigy or something close to it. He was in a private school and then actually got his high school diploma in the eighth or ninth grade, then went to college right away. The guy is super smart. Now he is a pediatric cardiologist, I think," Emmett tells me.

"Really? I didn't even know Dr. Cullen had children. I had heard Charlie mention him a few times at home before, but nothing much," I say, thinking back to those conversations with Charlie.

"There are actually two children. He has a younger sister, Alice. Apparently she went to a private school in Seattle, and then went to some design school after that. But get this….Alice is engaged to Jasper, Rose's second cousin," Emmett says and moves around on the bed a little, jostling us around.

"_What?_ Jeez this is confusing. I've never met Jasper or heard much of him, so no more family tree for now, okay?" I ask him, mentally trying to string it together.

Emmett chuckles and ruffles my hair, but then gets really close and up in my face. Here it comes.

"Bella. Sweetie. Don't do this again. _Ever!_Don't do it to me, or to Rose. I've already lost way too much, and besides my Rosey, you are the most important person in the world to me. I promise, things _will _get better. I know it takes time and I know that you miss Jake and…" He shakes his head a little. "Give it a little more time, Bell. Please," he pleads with me, not looking away until I give him an answer.

I begin to sob again and Emmett crushes me to him once again. My shoulders heave into his chest. I don't even know what I have done, but I know it must have been really bad.

Emmett gives me one last good squeeze and gets up from the bed. He leans over and kisses the top of my head and walks to the door.

"Do you want to talk to Rose? I know she would love to see you. She's so worried," Emmett says, making it sound more like a demand than an option.

I swallow the bile I feel rising in my throat. Rose is going to be mad at me. Seeing Emmett's reaction to whatever it is I did, I know Rose's is going to be worse. Not only because she loves me, but because Emmett had to go through this. If she is one thing, it is protective.

I nod at Emmett and he leaves, closing the door behind him. I hadn't noticed until now, but the nurse had left at some point. While I wait for Rose, I use the restroom; maybe my nervousness to talk to her is scaring the pee out of me. It's likely. I cross the room to sit in the robin's egg blue recliner that faces the window. It is now dark out and the rain has stopped. The sky has actually cleared up a little bit, but I see dark clouds on the horizon. The sky is too lit up from the lights of Port Angeles to get a good look at the stars, but I can see a few, along with a planet or satellite.

I lose myself in thought for a while as I stare at the sky. Maybe if I can push my brain just a little harder, I can remember what happened, or the thoughts and feelings that pushed me to do whatever I had done will resurface. I remember the dream, and as painful as it is for me to recall it, I have to. I would really like to remember before Dr. Cullen has to tell me. I imagine that couldn't possibly go well, and he said something about a psyche evaluation. That notion really frightens me.

I try some meditative relaxation breathing and attempt counting to no avail. I can't remember anything else that happened. The last thing I remember is running out of the library, and then just feeling cold. That's it.

A throat clears behind me and I quickly turn to look to the door to see Rose. The door is closed, and her back is pushed up against it, leaning, but she isn't looking at me. She stares down at her shoes a few moments and my skin prickles in worry. This is going to be really bad.

We stay like this for several minutes until she finally looks up at me. Her eyes are filled to the brim with tears and they slowly overflow and cascade down her cheeks. I want to go to her and tell her that I'm sorry, but she is in her warrior pose. Her stance is rigid and her shoulders are tight. The only thing I can do is wait, so I do. I look back to the heavens.

Behind me, I hear her pulling something and I turn back around. She sets a folding chair close to the chair I am sitting in, just a few feet away. She leans down to prop her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands. Her tears are fewer now, as are mine, and I'm glad. I never meant to hurt her, or anyone for that matter. I watch her, waiting for her to speak.

"I know you think I am going to totally go off on you, Bella. And God knows I want to. But, I also know that you are going through some really horrible shit right now. And it's awful. I know that I can't feel what you feel right now, but I do understand, honey. You can't do this, though; you can't keep going on like this. What you are doing and have been doing for the last year is _not_ life. Not at all," Rose says, her eyes staring into my black soul.

She looks away from me and to the sky that I was lost in moments before. She sighs and looks back to me.

"Emmett said that you don't remember what happened. I don't want to believe that, but I do. You should remember - you _need _to remember - but I also know that it won't be much longer before you do know. I don't know what it's going to do to you, to hear what happened. It's ugly, but we love you and that won't _ever _change. Just...quit being stupid. What you did today…that's _not _you, Bella. Whether or not you know it, you are a fighter. Don't ever stop!" Rose says animatedly.

My tears come back in full force, and I wonder if it is possible for the ducts to dry out. Obviously not. Rose isn't just talking about what happened today. She's talking about the entire last year. She has gone that long without ever truly saying what she wanted, and obviously today was the last straw for her, because she's laying it all out on me. I don't blame her, but it makes the hole in me a little rawer around the edges.

"_Ouch!_" I look down to see Rose's fingers pinching my forearm. I look up to her face and see that she is smirking at me.

"You deserve that and you know it. Well, maybe you don't know it yet, but you will soon." She stands up and puts her hands on her hips, getting defensive again.

"Damnit. I love you Bella. But quit being so fucking stupid about everything! You need to wake up already," Rose says to me, pointing her index finger in my direction.

I jump out of my chair at her and wrap her in my arms. She gives a little _umpf,_ but catches me and somehow, I'm sitting in Rose's lap now. She laughs a little, and a sad giggle bubbles out of me. She hugs me tight, almost as tight as Emmett, and I just sit there for a second or two before finally getting up.

She stands and kisses me on the cheek, then walks over to the door and pulls it open.

"I love you, sweetie, but you need to start living again. Jake would want it," Rose says quietly.

With that, she turns and walks out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

I collapse back into her little folding chair; my head feels too heavy, so I let it hang and my hair becomes a curtain around my head.

I go back into the bathroom after a minute and splash more cold water on my face. My eyes are really beginning to burn from all this crying. I go back to the ugly blue recliner, falling into it, and close my eyes.

_I see myself sleeping at home in our bed. But I hear a loud noise and it awakens me. Jake is no longer beside me, and his spot is cold, so he must have been up for a while._

_I climb out of bed and grab my robe from the bathroom door hook before I go down stairs to look for him. I notice the clock on the wall of our bedroom says 9:30 a.m., which means I have slept much later than usual. If he was going to visit Billy, why didn't he wake me? He usually does since that is the typical way he spends his Saturdays. He visits Billy in the morning, and is back home by lunch time, and then we do whatever we feel or have planned. _

_I make my way to the kitchen first, and there is no coffee brewed, which makes this morning even more odd. Jake cannot _function _without at least two cups of black tar coffee. Hmm. Maybe he is in the garage. I get the coffee brewing and slip my slippers on my feet to go out to the garage. I open up the door to the attached garage, but it is dark, and the radio is not on. Jake always has the radio on when working on the car or one of the bikes. I flip the light on to see if his car is even in the garage. It isn't, but the garage looks off, like there is something missing. It takes me a bit to figure it out, but then I realize it's the motorcycle. His motorcycle is gone._

_I go back in the house and look out of the kitchen window. It's raining out and the outdoor weather thermometer says it is only 51 degrees. He wouldn't take the bike out in this weather._

_I walk into the living room and the television is off, as well as the lights, so I head back to the office. He's not there. I head back up stairs and use the restroom, and then walk to the end of the hall to check the guest room._

_I open the door to darkness. It doesn't make sense as this is usually the brightest room in the house in the morning. I feel a tickling on my abdomen, and reach to flick the light on. The room is filled with black beetles, scurrying around. My breathing hitches, and then accelerates, and I feel the tickle in my stomach again. I look down._

_I see all the beetles are coming out of a gash on my stomach and let out a blood curdling scream._

I feel myself being shaken awake.

It takes a long time for me to actually open my eyes but when I do, I am staring into the worried, green eyes of Dr. Edward Cullen.

* * *

I'll keep this short. For anyone wanting a playlist, I have one up on my blog. The link is on my profile. And you should all go and check out The BD Screenplay Challenge. That link is on my profile as well. Thanks for reading, love you all.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Hi All! Sorry it has taken me so long to get something posted. I have been BUSY! And this is going to be a slightly lengthy note.

First, I have donated a 22k word one-shot for the Fics For Nashville Relief fundraiser. If you haven't checked it out, ou should. $5 gets you TONS of stories by many excellent authors. You can find more info here: http:/community (dot)livejournal(dot)

Second, The Breaking Dawn Screenplay Challenge is still going on and giving chapters/scenes out. There is still time for you to enter, and trust me, writing out a scene does not take as much time as writing out an actual one-shot. Try it out! We have wonderful guest judges such as: Hannah81, Katmom & lolashoes. You can find the link to the BDSC fanfiction profile from my personal profile.

Third, I wouldn't be submitting this story, or my other without the help from Project Team Beta, as well as my new beta's – vasweetpea & BEEternity. I can't wait to get to know you girls better!

Fourth, There are amazing things going on over at TwiFicNews! If you haven't checked it out, you need to! Come visit us!

So, SweetVenom69 is my sunshine. Not only does she preread for me, but that woman kicks my ass when I'm being lazy and need motivation. Thank you, BB! Go check out her BugWard! *swoon*

A big thanks to my Twilighted validator: shabbyapples, who is lightning quick!

Thanks for reading, and sorry about the long note…but you were warned ;)

This is Edward's POV of the last chapter, and starts off when he was in her room the first time.

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight, nor any of the characters…just giving them a new story.

* * *

CHAPTER 5

Edward POV

I escape Bella's hospital room as quickly as my feet will carry me; I can't quite muster a run, but am close to it. I need a little while to breathe and think, and that nurse couldn't have walked in at a better time. For a second there, I thought Bella had total recollection of what happened, but then she became confused, and I realized she only remembered something from the very beginning, before she even ran past me…which, oddly enough, confuses me. I'm going to have to ask her about that. Or would that be rude, since I'm basically a stranger to her?

I'm not sure if I'd rather she remembered the details herself, or if I would prefer to talk it out and help her through it. It's quite odd. She is a stranger to me, and I met her all of five hours ago - yet - I want to protect her from this harsh reality. I both hate and love that I am the one who will tell her. Or will her brother tell her?

Seriously. What is going _on_ with me? I'm not usually like this.

Not quite ready to confront the faces in the waiting room, I make my way to the cafeteria. Though _I'm _not really hungry, Rose or Emmett may be, so I load up on junk food and head back up to the room.

Emmett and Rose have two chairs pulled close together and are speaking in hushed tones with their noses only a few inches apart. When I enter the room, Alice is back, but on her phone; she holds up a finger to me asking for a moment, and Emmett looks over at me.

Speaking to me very quickly, he asks, "Is she awake? Can I go see her yet?" He grabs onto Rose's hand, pulling her up beside him.

"Yeah, she's awake, Emmett, and you can go see her, but one at a time."

He turns back to Rose and kisses her; I walk over to the window to give them some privacy. They speak quietly for a few more minutes, and then I hear their chairs slide apart. I turn around and Emmett is staring at me.

"Did she say anything about what happened, Edward?"

I shake my head. "She doesn't remember anything except running out of the library. I was about to tell her when the nurse came in to do her hourly check. I thought you could talk to her first and see if she remembers anything. Or maybe _you _could tell her?"

"No. I think it would be best if you told her. You know exactly what happened and….and I don't think I will make it through to the end of it. Will you tell her for me?"

I nod my head and he turns back to Rose, telling her something before he leaves the room.

Now that I know I will be the one to tell her, it hits me like a freight train in the stomach, like it's happening all over again. It's just too much to deal with at the moment. With all that happened today, it's too much to go through again, and if_ I_ feel that way, I imagine it will be much worse for her.

Rose returns to the couch and I motion to the round table in the far corner and tell her to help herself to the junk food. I apologize for the pathetic variety but she waves me off. She walks over, viewing the meager selection.

I return my gaze to the night sky in an attempt to clear my head...it doesn't work. After just a few minutes, Alice sidles up beside me and wraps her arm around my waist. I return the sentiment, and wrap mine around her shoulders. She snuggles into my side just a bit more, and we stand like that for a while. Somber Alice does not show herself often, but I am grateful for her right now. I'm just not sure that I can handle her optimism after today's events.

"Was that Jazz on the phone?" I barely recognize my voice. It comes out raspy and tired.

Alice doesn't look at me, but nods. "You sound terrible, Edward. You need sleep. Why don't you go home? It might not be good for her to hear the whole story right now, and she needs her rest too."

"I know. I was just thinking that myself. She's been through a lot today." Too much, and my mind keeps wandering back to her medical file and what I _wasn't_ able to read.

Alice nods. "I'm going to stay here with Rose and her husband. Jazz said he would come and get me whenever I call. Go home, Edward. Get some rest. You look haggard."

"Thanks for the confidence booster, Alice." I give her small smile, to let her know that I'm not bothered by her comment. Not that she would care anyway.

"But you do. I'm not sure I've ever seen you like this. It's a bit disarming, Edward," she says and looks up at me.

I sigh. All of a sudden I feel incredibly tired, both physically and emotionally drained. I keep seeing the image of her floating under the surface of the ocean in the flashes of the lightning. It's a loop that keeps replaying in my mind.

Alice's comment makes my mind up for me. I need my bed. As much as I would simply love to just get this over with, I don't have the energy for it right now. I need sleep. The only reason I was able to convince Dr. Marcus that I didn't need to be checked out is because I'm a doctor. I know the signs and symptoms to be looking for and I'm also Carlisle's son. He trusted my judgment based simply on that fact. But the day that started out so simple turned horribly wrong, and it is wearing on me. I am relieved that Alice had talked me into taking some vacation days so that I don't have to go back to work for a while.

Alice and I sit and chat for a while. I don't want to go until I have a chance to talk to Emmett…and his sister. While I don't think she will be happy about me making her wait to hear what happened, I think it would be best. I will have to convince Emmett of this as well.

After thirty minutes or so, he enters the room. He wears his own mask, hiding what emotions he can, but his eyes are rimmed with the scarlet of crying. He makes his way over to the couch and to his wife and sags down to sit beside her. I hear them whispering, but don't really make much out of it. I turn my attention back to Alice. It's none of my business and they deserve their privacy.

Alice and I fall to silence, but she pulls a deck of cards out of her purse and we tiredly attempt to play speed. Where I once reigned as a champion in this game, my brain simply refuses to think or see quickly enough to keep pace with Alice. After three games, she rolls her eyes at me and scoops up the cards to play solitaire.

I stand up to stretch, and at the same time, Rose rises and looks at me and then back to her husband.

"I'm going to go see Bella now. I'm sure they are going to want her left alone soon - it's getting late - but I want to talk to her tonight."

She kisses Emmett on the top of the head and walks out of the room. I walk over to the far end of the couch and sit down. Emmett is at the opposite end of me, not just sitting on the couch, but more like melded into the couch. He appears to no longer have any kind of energy to remain upright. I can't say I blame him.

"Excuse me for saying so Doc, but you don't look so great."

I run my hand through my disheveled hair, pushing it to the side. "Yeah, but I can say the same for you, Emmett."

He looks away from me to stare ahead at the blank pastel blue wall. We sit there in the silence until it is broken by the shrill ring of Alice's cell phone. She answers on the first ring. When I look away from her, Emmett is looking at me again.

"I think you should wait to tell her, Doc," Emmett says to me, scratching at the five o'clock shadow on his face.

I hadn't been holding my breath, but what I had in me, I let out. "I think that's a _great _idea. I don't think she is ready to hear what happened, and to be honest, I don't really have the energy," I say, feeling more relieved every second.

He nods his head and looks down in his lap. For the first time I see that he is clutching something in his right hand. He looks back up at me and my gaze comes back up to his eyes one second behind. He holds his hand out towards me, and I reach mine out and open my hand.

Thick paper - photo paper. Face down in my palm. I don't flip it up right away. He stands up from the couch.

"I'm going for a short walk. But that….that is why today happened." And with that, he walks out of the room.

I look over to Alice. She is on the phone again, I assume with Jasper, but she is staring at me.

I flip the picture over.

The picture is of Bella and a man. But the Bella in this picture is so different than the Bella I met today. This Bella is smiling and has a sparkle in her eye. She is happy and the smile on her face stretches wide. They are almost two completely different people, the Bella in this picture and the Bella I pulled from the water. I am actually quite sure they are two different people, at least in personality and demeanor. Picture Bella is happy and full of life. Ocean Bella is simply, not. I have to look away from Picture Bella; she makes me sadder than Ocean Bella.

I focus on the man. He is quite large, maybe close to Emmett's size in muscle mass, but quite a bit taller. His skin tone is somewhere between olive and russet, complimented by his dark brown eyes and hair. He is young and good looking. His smile is massive, even in comparison to Bella's.

Where is this man that makes Bella so happy? Why isn't he here?

Unable to look at the picture anymore, I set it down on the middle cushion of the couch, face down, and stand up. I walk over to the table where Alice is sitting, and see that she has a set of scrubs sitting on top of the table. The blue scrub top has the Seattle Children's logo on it, so I know that she grabbed it from my room at our parents'.

She is just finishing up her conversation with Jasper, but she hands the dry clothing out to me. I snatch it up like a lifeline. Why hadn't she given it to me earlier to change into?

I make my way into the private restroom that is attached to our waiting room; it is large enough to accommodate wheelchairs, so I have plenty of leg room to change. I flip the light on and lock the door behind me, instantly pulling off my gray, long sleeved shirt that is now quite stiff. I toss it to the floor and push the lever for the paper towel dispenser several times and wet it in the sink. The water is cold, but it feels good against my skin, wiping away the salt residue that clings to me. After wiping down my arms, torso and neck, I throw it away. I kick my shoes off and pry my socks off of my feet. They will most definitely need to be disposed of. Even after I remove them, they still keep the stiff shape of my feet and ankles. It's actually quite comical. My jeans actually hurt to pull off. The denim is extremely stiff and is not negotiating their removal with me very well at all; I think they actually pull some of my leg hair out. I manage though, and go through the pile of clothes Alice brought back for me. God love her, she remembered the essentials. I pull on a pair of clean socks, boxer briefs and the blue scrub bottoms.

I don't pull the shirt on quite yet. My head is screaming for attention. It itches so badly and I have no brush. I mess with the sink dials for the water and get it warm enough. I wet my hair, trying my best to keep the water in the sink, and not get it on the floor or my clean, dry clothes. With nothing other than the hospital grade hand soap I wash my hair the best I can manage in the small, shallow sink and dry it off with more paper towels. Finally, I put my shirt on. I take my water logged wallet out of my pants and shove the pile of clothes into the garbage can. It's the most fitting thing I can think to do with them.

When I finally emerge from the restroom, carrying my grungy shoes, Rose is back, as is Emmett, and they are once again sitting on the couch.

Emmett looks up at me and musters a tired smile. "You look a little better; your hair no longer needs its own zip code."

I feel my mouth quiver and my lip hitches up just a bit. "I feel better, it's amazing what a little bit of water, minus the salt, and clean clothes can really do." I notice that he has also changed his shirt and Rose now wears an oversized hooded sweatshirt. It looks like it belongs to Emmett. She wears the hood up.

He nods at me and leans over to give Rose a kiss on the cheek, then stands. "Shall we take a walk?"

I look at Alice and then back to him and nod. We head out of the room and down the hallway. After a while we come to a wall of windows that looks down on a small playground and sitting area. There are picnic and park benches scattered around, empty. Of course at this time of night, they would be empty, but the lights still shine down on them.

We stand there for a while, and just as I am about to break the silence that is beginning to lean towards awkward, he speaks.

"Rose disagrees about us waiting to tell her. She thinks Bella needs to know _now_. I told her I understand, but now is not the time. Maybe in a couple of days or a week after she is out of here and back home. She needs some time to bounce back from this." He quickly glances at me, but then, back at the lonely looking picnic tables.

I nod at him. "Okay. But can I be honest?" He nods. "I'm not sure why you are telling me all this. I'm a total outsider and I barely know any of you. The only odd connection we have is that my sister is marrying your wife's cousin, and that I happened to be in the right place at the right time today."

Again he nods, but doesn't answer me right away. "Honestly, I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Rose asked me the same thing earlier, no offense, but she doesn't see why I'm letting a stranger in on all our family issues. Rose doesn't trust people easily. All I can say is that I have a good feeling about you. You saved my sister's life with no explanation as to why she put herself in that position, and you aren't bombarding us with questions. You cared enough about a stranger to risk your own life, not knowing just how she would need saving."

He sighs and rubs his face with his bear-sized palm and leaves it resting on the back of his neck.

"I don't know how I will ever be able to say thank you enough, Edward. But thank you." He pauses for a moment, and then asks "What are you going to do?" Emmett turns from the window and looks at me pointedly.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "First of all, stop thanking me. Once was more than enough, and of course I would save her. It wasn't an option _not to_. Second. I'm going to go tell her that we will talk soon, and that she needs her rest before she learns the whole story. Then, I'm going home...to bed."

I reach into the back pocket of my scrubs and retrieve my soggy wallet. I pull out two floppy business cards and hand them to him. "I'm going to give this to you, and you can give it to her. She can call me when she is ready to hear it all."

"Thanks. You ready to go back?" He asks me, already walking back toward the main corridor.

"Yeah. I'm going to go straight to her room, though. Would you tell my sister that I'll talk to her tomorrow?"

"Sure."

We walk down the hall quietly, with nothing more to say. I come to the hallway that leads to his sister's room and turn off while he keeps going. I hope I see him again sometime. In any other situation, I think he could be a pretty fun guy.

I come to Bella's door and hear low murmurs. I recognize two female voices, so the nurse must be in there again. After a while, the nurse emerges and practically jumps out of her shoes when she sees me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Is she awake?" I ask her.

"Yes, but she really needs to get some sleep," the nurse says, giving me an annoyed look.

"I know. I am just going in for a few minutes, and then she won't have any more visitors until morning."

Satisfied, she nods and walks toward the nurse's station.

I take a deep breath and push the door open.

The room is lit with only a small lamp that rests on a table in the corner. Bella sits slightly reclined in the hospital bed, just watching me. The air is charged with words unsaid, and for now, will remain unsaid…but she doesn't know that yet. I really don't want to upset her more after the day she has had, but if we do this now, it will do just that.

"How are you feeling, Bella?"

"A little better. I was able to take a shower and that helped significantly. My hair no longer has the ability to stand up on its own, and I see yours no longer does either." Her gaze looks up to my mop of hair.

"I had to make do, so I washed it in the bathroom sink."

She chuckles a bit at that, which makes me smile. It's nice to hear that come from her, and for a second, she doesn't look so worn out and distraught.

"That sucks. I at least had the luxury of a real shower."

"Well, rub it in why don't cha?" I tease.

I feel myself smiling, and she is too, but hers begins to fade. As does mine. "So are you ready to do this because…"

"I'm not sure if we should do this tonight. I'm actually not sure that I can even stay awake for it. After that shower, wow, my eye lids took on the weight of a sumo wrestler. I can barely keep them open now."

"I think that waiting to hear all this would be better. You just need to rest and get back home. We can talk about this later. I already gave Emmett my card, and I left an extra with him, for you. I will be in Forks, at my parent's house for another three days before heading back to Seattle. Call me when you are ready to talk?"

She nods her head, and I make my way to the corner, clicking the lamp off. I head back to the door, opening it, but then she speaks in a small, almost timid voice.

"You want to know what is truly ironic? For the first time since I can remember, I hadn't felt like I was drowning…when I was in the water. How fucked up is that?"

She doesn't wait for my answer, she rolls over, away from the door, and I leave.

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Thanks for reading, and if you like it, could you let me know?


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, so I tried to get this out over the weekend but it didn't happen. But, here it is, just in time for the #readalong tonight. SweetVenom69 is hosting, so if you want to join in, make sure you follow her.

Things are going to start picking up a little more and there is going to start being a little bit more Bella/Edward interaction. I'm excited for it, are you? That doesn't necessarily mean that the emo/angst stuff is gone, not completely (it may never be) but it may be lessened a little bit...but not in this chapter.

So, many thanks to Project Team Beta who beta'd this for me. Chapter 7 is with the beta's now but they are newbies for me. So, welcome to the Underside family Jules & vasweetpea! SweetVenom69 is my lovely pre reader and my fic sis. I love BB! Go read her story: Bittersweet Irony, it's filled with lots of fantastic twists. Also lots of love to my wonderful WC group, gawd we have fun, don't we?

Before I let you read...a couple more things. If you are interested in trying your hand at scriptwriting, check out a challenge that I am working on with several other ladies, The Breaking Dawn Screenplay Challenge. There is a profile here on fanfiction. .net/~thebdscreenplaychallenge . And also, I am putting on a new contest along with SweetVenom69 called The Freaky Friday Contest. .net/~thefreakyfridaycontest so go check it out. It promises to be fun!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight, or any of the characters. I'm just having some fun.

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CHAPTER 6

Bella POV

I wake up with a start; drenched in sweat, the result of yet another nightmare. Rolling over in the darkness, I take a look at the clock: four forty-two in the morning.

Surprisingly it's the sound of someone clearing their throat, rather than the bad dream that wakes me up. Realizing this, I quickly scan the room to look for the contributor. A form sits in the rocking chair I had occupied earlier in the evening, looking back at me.

"Hello, Mrs. Black. I'm sorry I woke you, but I'm in the hospital here briefly and wanted to stop by and say hello. How are you feeling this morning?"

The voice is soothing and has a calming lilt to it.

"Who are you? Do you work here at the hospital?" I ask, as I squint my eyes in an attempt to better see the mysterious visitor.

"I'm a doctor, but I don't work here in the hospital, although, I do make hospital visits. I have my own practice."

The dark form stands up and walks closer to the bed. A breeze of mint and chocolate wafts over me.

"I'm leaving my card for you and one with your brother as well. Don't avoid me, and don't fight the need you feel deep down inside to talk about that has happened. I know the real truth about what took place today. Call me soon, Bella."

And then, he just walks out. What was that all about, and who was he?

I lie back for a while just thinking. It doesn't take me long to drift off again. I dream about water once more, but this time it's soothing.

The nurse comes in at two o'clock in the afternoon to let me know that I will be getting discharged soon, and that I can change back into my own clothes. _Do I have clean clothes here? _She seems to read the question on my face and points to the small table in the corner. A duffel bag sits on top of it.

I walk over and retrieve the bag, toss it onto the bed, and open it up. Inside are all my favorite, much loved clothes and a few bathing essentials. Whoever put the bag together did a fantastic job, even including my shampoo and conditioner, but I want my own shower, so that can wait.

I put everything back in the bag and go into the restroom to change since the nurse is still in my room, working on the in-room computer. I assume she is working on my discharge information. After a few minutes, I emerge from the restroom fully clothed and feeling much more like myself. The nurse is standing by the bed, holding a folder.

"Ready to sign some papers and go home, dear?" she asks me in a soft tone.

"You have no idea. No offense, but I loathe hospitals."

She gives me a wry smile. "Most do. Okay, come on over and we'll get this done."

She sifts through a bunch of papers and has me sign four or five of them. Taking a few of the copies, she puts them in a folder. I see her pick up a small card. The card from my early morning visitor that I had _completely_ forgotten about up until now.

"Make the call. This one is a good one," she says to me. She looks sad for a moment, but then gives me a big smile. "Dr. Marcus will be in in a few minutes to clear you and after that you are free to go. Shall I send your family in?"

"Yes, that would be great. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, dear! Take care."

Wow, I'm used to always getting the bitchy nurses. She was really nice.

While I wait for Emmett to come in, I unzip the bag and place the folder inside, and zip it back up.

"Hey, squirt!"

I practically jump out of my shoes. "Jeez Em, give a woman a heart attack why don't ya? A little warning next time please?"

He just smiles. "I _did _knock, Bell. But sorry, I didn't mean to scare the shit out of you."

Rose steps out from behind Emmett and elbows him in the side. She looks at me and rolls her eyes.

"Jeez Rose, I said I was sorry. That's gonna leave a bruise," Emmett whines.

"Better that than my four inch heel up your ass, isn't it?" Rose deadpans.

"Yeah, yeah."

Dr. Marcus walks in and I see Rose glare at Emmett one more time before she focuses her attention on my doctor, plastering a smile on her face.

"Hello, everyone. Mrs. Black." He nods at us and looks down at my file. "Ok, it looks like you are ready to go. Your temperature has been fine so we see no reason to keep you holed up here any longer. Do you have any questions or concerns?"

"Nope. I feel much better. My neck is just a tad stiff, but other than that, I'm fine."

"That is probably from the fall; ice it and you should be fine in a few days or so."

I look down and nod my head. I can feel my brother and sister-in-law's eyes on me.

"You are free to go then. But please, try and stay off slippery piers when it's raining and dark out from now on, Mrs. Black."

Emmett lets out a raspy cough and I hear Rose whisper something in his ear.

"I promise, Dr. Marcus. And thank you."

"It's no problem, just be careful," he requests, and then walks out of the room.

I'm left standing with my two favorite people in the world, who seem quite wary of me at the moment. After a few moments, Emmett clears his throat.

"Ready to go, Bella?"

I nod my head. "Yeah. Let's go."

The ride home is quiet. It's just Emmett and I in his Jeep since Rose is driving my car home. Emmett and I got into a bit of a disagreement over that back in the library parking lot, but I finally just dropped it. I can tell he wants to say something to me, but he won't. I've never seen my obnoxious brother quite so tongue tied.

It seems like barely any time at all has passed before we are pulling up in front of the house, with Rose pulling in right behind us. I reach for my bag as I get out, but Emmett already has it. I walk up the driveway and let myself in the house, leaving the door open for them. I know they want to come in, but I really hope they won't try to baby me too much before leaving.

I turn the television on in the living room and head into the kitchen.

"Drinks?" I call out to them.

"Tea," they reply simultaneously.

"Actually, make mine a Coke." That sounds right to me. Emmett rarely drinks tea, unless he can add four or five tablespoons of sugar to it.

I head back into the living room with two glasses of iced tea and a can of coke and place them on the coffee table. The tension is in the room is heavy, but I'm waiting for them to start. No way in heck am I going to be the opener for my own slaying.

I look at Emmett, and he is looking at Rose with a question in his eyes. Rose looks back to Emmett; she looks annoyed and anxious. Their silent conversation bothers me.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Just say what you've got to say already, Emmett." God, I was going to keep my mouth shut and then it just opens and words spew out.

Emmett looks at me, and now he seems slightly angry. At me? Yeah, probably at me. I'm an asshole.

"Look, Bella. I'm not telling you this story. If you think that I'm going to make it easier on you by telling you so you don't have to talk to Edward, you can forget it. You need to see what kind of impact your self-loathing and isolation is having on other people. You are not the only one affected, damn it!" He is breathing more heavily now, and I'm a little shocked at his unexpected outburst. He's been holding it all in for me, seemingly waiting for me to figure everything out.

He stands up. "I need to go home. I'm tired; _we're_ tired." He walks over to the door, with Rose at his side, and they both turn back to me. Emmett points his finger at me. "You better call him. It's time you see, Isabella!"

_Isabella?_

I can't remember the last time he called me that; it's been years and years. He really _is_ pissed.

Rose walks out with Emmett following, but he stops and turns back around to look at me. He looks sad and a little bit older. "We love you. But you know...you aren't the only one hurting, Bell."

With that, he turns back around and walks out.

After that, the days go by quickly, and before I know it, it has been over five weeks since "the incident." Emmett and Rose are barely speaking to me and I have yet to learn what exactly happened the day I ran from the library.

For some reason, I can't quite make myself call Edward Cullen. I have dialed his number several times, only to hang up before the call has a chance to connect. I'm curious to hear what happened that day, but I'm reluctant because I know whatever he has to say won't be good. He was nothing but nice to me in the hospital. He saved my life for crying out loud. Still, I _have_ to know. I resolve to call him...soon. Real soon.

A couple of days after I make the decision to call Edward, I find myself sitting at the outdoor bistro a block from my house, and sipping on coffee when my phone rings. The caller comes up unknown and, normally I don't answer unknown callers, but for some reason I do this time.

"Hello?"

"Ah, Bella?" The caller sounds hesitant.

"Yes. And who's this?"

…there's a pause… "This is Edward, Edward Cullen."

Well, here it is, and I'm tongue tied. I was banking on at least another day.

"Are you there, Bella?"

"Achgut," I choke on my own spit. "Oh, sorry. I kind of choked there a bit. Hi."

"Hello. Um, how are you?" he asks.

"I'm doing alright. Been busy. How about you?" Small talk. Ugh.

"I'm okay, but you never called, Mrs. Black," he reminds me. I feel guilty.

There seems to be a hint of something in his voice. Annoyance?

"I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say, except, I tried." Shit, why did I just say that?

"You tried? But you couldn't? Why is that?" He sounds interested now.

"I don't know. The uncertainty of where it would lead me?" I wait for him to understand. I hope he does. Now that I think of it, it was quite rude to not call him, especially after he helped me out, at least from what I've been told.

"Well. I think it's time you heard it. Don't you?"

His tone seems pushy, which is a bit annoying, but he's right. I want to know, and have been wondering these past five weeks. May as well get it over with.

"Alright. Lay it on me."

"Oh no. I'm not doing this over the phone. How about I come there, or you can come out to my parent's house? I'm going to be there over the weekend, visiting."

Hmm. I'm actually going to have to see this guy again. I would rather hear it over the phone and just be done, but he's obviously not going to allow that. _Damn it._ Fine.

"Alright. Um, I guess we could do it here. Saturday?"

"Saturday works, but not until after two o'clock. Is that alright?"

"That's fine. I'll see you then, Edward Cullen." I begin to pull the phone from my ear to hang up, but I hear him yell.

"Wait! I need your address."

I quickly give him my address. "Alright, bye then."

"Goodbye, Bella Black."

There he was, throwing my formal phone etiquette back in my face. I throw my phone in my purse, disgusted, and not caring to talk on it again for a while. I finish the last gulp of my coffee and walk home.

I don't sleep well the next few nights. The anxiety of the upcoming meeting with Edward has me all sorts of edgy. As I'm relaxing in front of the fire in the living room and sitting in Jake's recliner, it hits me all of a sudden. It's here. Friday night. I have to meet with Edward Cullen tomorrow afternoon. What am I going to say to him? What is he going to say to me? Of course, he is going to tell me what happened, but will that be it? Am I supposed to cook something, or will it be an in and out kind of thing? Ugh, that sounds dirty.

Maybe I should call and ask Rose what I should do. Yeah. Rose will know.

I dial Em and Rose's house number and Emmett picks it up on the third ring sounding winded. They already know of my "appointment" with Edward Cullen as I called and told as soon as I got home that night. They were glad that I would finally hear it, but wished I had taken the initiative to call him myself.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Em. Everything alright over there? You sound winded."

"Oh yeah, Rose just had me up in the attic searching for something, and then yelled at me to get the phone. The phone in our bedroom is broken, so I had to run all the way down to the first floor. Sorry it took me so long." He pants into the phone.

"No worries. Besides, it was only the third ring. What's Rose doing anyway?"

I hear him harrumph a little bit. "Painting her nails."

I burst out laughing. Leave it to Rose to be painting her nails and make Emmett run down three flights of stairs to get the phone because her nails are wet. "Well, at least you're getting your exercise! Can I talk to her?"

"Sure, hold on." He must've put the phone to his chest as I hear a muffled murmur and then Rosalie cussing him out.

"Stupid idiot. Hey, Bella, what's up?"

I can't hide the amusement in my voice. "Hey, Rose. Keeping him in line?"

"Ugh, he's such a baby. Anyway, my nails are wet, and my toes. You know how much it pisses me off when I smudge even _one_ nail!"

"Yes. I do." I pause for a second, trying to figure out how to ask her this. "Um, Rose? So, Edward Cullen is coming over tomorrow so we can have this….talk. And, well, am I supposed to cook or have appetizers or emo beer or something?"

Rose lets out a snicker over the phone before she answers me. "Exactly what the hell is emo beer, Bella?"

"You _know_ - the fancy imports that taste like shit that rich kids drink trying to appear poor and forlorn. Emo beer." Makes perfect sense to me.

She lets out a full belly laugh now. "Um. I think the beer you usually have will be sufficient, maybe some wine, but only for the sake of variety. And yes, it would be good to offer some type of sustenance...to be polite. The man _may_ be hungry, Bella. You never know. Besides, he _did_ save your life, and is now making the trek to your place to tell you about it."

I don't reply right away, but fidget with my shoelace. I'm not sure of the words I want to say, and anyway, they'll get caught in my throat.

Rose sighs, and I feel bad that I even called her about this. The whole situation is just awkward as shit.

"Listen, Bella. I met Edward. He's a nice guy and he genuinely seems to want to help you out." I'm about to interrupt, but Rose beats me, "and _don't_ say you don't need any help. I'm not insinuating that you do, even if you _do_. Just, let him do this. He may need to get it off his chest just as much as you simply need to know what happened. You need to allow another person to offer their insight. A different perspective might shed some light for you."

I can't really disagree, although I really want to. It's hard not to get lost in all of my thoughts. Time to end this convo.

"Okay, so would it be smart go with little tarts and quiches? Fun-size it?"

Noticing my change in subject and urgency to end the phone call, Rose gives in. "Yeah, I think that would be good. And you know that you had _better_ call me the second he leaves your house! Got it?"

"Got it sissy-in-law. Love you."

"Shut it. Love you, too."

I end the call and set the phone down. The nervousness immediately seeps back in and the frantic energy of the situation takes up residence in my sternum, feeling much like heartburn and anxiety.

It's just now getting on past seven in the evening and the sun has long since set. If I have to start cooking early in the morning, I certainly better make sure that I have all the necessary ingredients, which isn't possible.

First, I need to figure out exactly what I want to make. Something light, but satisfying. Nothing fancy of course, no need. Rose said to get wine just for the sake of variety, and I would like a white this time around. I have a bottle of Zeitgeist that an old childhood friend brought with her from Minnesota just before Christmas time. That will do well, and it's a bit sweet, so I need something to match that flavor.

Ugh, I am totally over thinking this. But the Zeitgeist will do.

I head into the living room and pick up my laptop and settle onto the couch. I type in mini quiches and have a few options; I resort to all too often, so I decide on Betty Crocker this time. She's never let me down. Clicking through a couple of pages, I finally find a recipe that sounds both quick and delicious: Spinach Quiche Bites. I think I'll add mushrooms, and maybe a little bit of brie, bacon and shrimp. _Wipe drool from chin._ I think I'll make my own dough though, so I'll also need to purchase those little tart tins.

For the sweet side, I think a mixture of black and red raspberries with cream cheese sounds good. That should be sufficient. I grab a pen and piece of paper off of the end table and set to making my list. I eventually set my computer aside and head to the kitchen to check my beer stock. As I figured, Emmett has left one bottle in there without telling me I need to buy more. I add that to my list.

I make the uneventful trip to the grocery store and I'm back home within an hour. For once, the sky is quite clear, so after all the groceries are put away and organized for quick and easy baking in the morning, I head upstairs to my bedroom. My big quilt is on the bed and I grab it, carrying it out to the balcony.

I flop down into one of the Adirondack chairs and pull the quilt over my legs and upper body. The air is slightly cool, but it's a nice night and the sky is clear. It won't last long; there is rain in the forecast and I can see the dew beginning to gather on the wrought iron end table that rests between the chairs.

I used to love the night sky. The vast open blackness of it with diamond-stud stars blinking and smiling at me, begging me to wish upon them. Such a sad and juvenile thing, but I would give anything to feel that way again. A wave of sadness washes through me as I fight off the memories of happy nights long past.

I no longer recognize happiness in the sky, and the sky I see tonight is much different then the sky from last year. I wait for my eyes to see the beauty in it, but my desire to see the beauty is sorely outweighed by my desire for the dark-speckled blanket to simply swallow me.

It doesn't, of course. It only keeps twinkling back at me…like it knows something I do not.

The air turns frigid as the night grows later and my blanket is no longer able to fully shelter me from the bitterness in the air. I head back inside and glance at the clock to see that it is after eleven already.

I have the tiredness that comes from overuse of muscles even though I haven't done anything to warrant it. My inability to sleep in stretches longer than four hours is beginning to take its toll. I feel the tension in my neck and decide that a shower is in order. Maybe it will also help me relax enough to fall asleep. Besides, I won't have time to shower in the morning.

"_Hold still, I have to get these out of you."_

_I don't immediately recognize the voice. The face is just a blur, but even so, it looks oddly familiar. Still, my vision can't quite focus on the person in front of me. What I am able to see is that he is quite frantic._

"_Bella, please, I have to get these out of you. For God's sake, hold still."_

_He almost seems angry with me now, but I can't figure out why. My tummy feels funny, like someone is pulling my skin inward, from the inside. It's a tugging sensation that leaves me feeling __incredibly__ nauseous._

_Looking around, I notice there are a lot of children's pictures on the walls and several stuffed animals. Where am I?_

_I look back to the man standing above me, but now, his face is perfectly clear. It's Edward, the man I barely know and who holds my secret._

"_Edward?"_

_But suddenly Edward is not Edward anymore, Edward has turned into Jake, and Jake looks furious._

"_Already, Bella? ALREADY?" He yells at me, his voice is agonized and I wonder at what I've done wrong._

_The tugging gets stronger in my abdomen and I finally look down._

_I immediately start breathing heavily and try to speak, but I can't. There are so many of them, coming out of me._

_I need the doctor back. _

"_EDWARD!"_

I sit straight up in my bed, drenched, as is my bed. I think that I may have called out to Edward...maybe screamed it. I glance at the clock. Four-sixteen in the morning.

I need another shower.

Why in the hell did Edward show up in my dream?

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If you like what you read, wanna let me know?


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: OMG, don't kill me, but I have sooooo much to say. First and foremost, I am offering two things for The Fandom Gives Back. The first is an outtake chapter from this story and the other is a one-shot. The bidding starts out low, and please, if you could spare just a little, it is for a WONDERFUL cause! Lets help these children FIGHT CANCER! My link to FGB:http:/ / www(dot)thefandomgivesback(dot)com/browse(dot)php?id=338

Okay, next, I have to give out a huge shout out to some people. SweetVenom69 is my fic wife and I lub her. *purrs* And the lovely aylah50 is also pwning me. I have a wonderful WC group that fills me with inspiration...among many other things, so thank you! My love goes out to Kassiah, I would be lost in the computer world without you BB!

Thank you to my wonderful betas Jules & vasweetpea for their attention to my grammar FAIL, as well as SweetVenom69 for prereading, and everything else.

If I forgot you, I'm sorry and I love you. This chap was rushed, I may be back in to tweek it here and there.

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CHAPTER 7

Edward POV

I wake up to my pager going off at four-thirty; slightly disoriented, I look around and remember that I'm in the on-call room after working a late shift last night. Out of nowhere, the nervousness hits me like a ton of bricks as I remember what day it is. I stay put on the bed, waiting for my rolling stomach to cooperate with me – it's a good thing it's empty.

_Ever since the day I met Bella, my life has been passing by in odd spurts. The few days after the incident I was off of work and spent them with the family. I was kept busy by Mom and Alice while visiting, but as soon as I returned to Seattle and was back to work, I didn't have much to distract me but work itself; some times it worked, but most times, not._

_I knew that Bella needed some time before calling me; I expected it. She would need to get home and get back into her life and just plain sort this shit out in her head; hell, even I had to do that. So that's what I did, then I waited for her to call me, because she said she would._

_But the first full week went by, and then, so did the second._

_By the middle of the third week, I wanted to pull all of my hair out. Why hadn't she called? Didn't she want to know what happened?_

_I tried my best to keep myself busy. I worked longer shifts at the hospital than I should have and did my best to stay under the chief's radar. I didn't need him harassing me about getting enough rest and having a life outside of the hospital; the long shifts worked for a short time, and I temporarily forgot about the dreams and images that plagued me. When I finally made it home late in the evenings or early mornings, all I could manage to do was throw myself on the bed and pray for sleep. Like I said, it worked for a while, a very short while. A couple weeks after the "incident" I began to have weird dreams - disturbing dreams - dreams where I was too late in saving her._

_The third week passed. The fourth week…I got pissed._

_I was angry with Bella for not calling me, and pissed off at Emmett for not making Bella call me, and even pissed off at Alice for repeatedly telling me to give Bella the benefit of the doubt._ "She needs more time, Edward_."__ Well, I'd had plenty of time, 'cuz what the fuck about_ my _feelings,_ my _thoughts,_ my _dreams?_

_I gave her plenty of time; she chose to avoid the entire situation, which resulted in her trauma becoming my trauma. I couldn't get it, or her - if I was being honest -out of my head._

_I was really beginning to dislike Bella. In some of my most angry moments I would see her face under that water, and I felt sad, and angry, and maybe a little scared too. I saw the image of her face when I closed my eyes at times, or in my dreams. I saw her beauty and her pain, and that was when I began to like Bella. _

_It was the Tuesday of the fifth week when I finally broke down and called Emmett for the second time. All it took was a "Hey, Edward," and I kind of just unloaded on him. To his credit, he didn't get pissed off at me as I ranted and raved about his sister and not being able to understand her thought process. I mean, I would want to know if it were me._

_Emmett reassured me that Bella_ did_want to know, but that her pain had been deep, and that she had been through too much to simply overcome everything and come to terms with her past. He told me she'd had a hard year, and you just can__'t__ push healing. He said that it was easier for her to put off talking to me because by doing so, she could delay the imminent onslaught of fresh pain that hearing the story would cause._

_The way he spoke about her past sounded a bit cryptic to me, but I didn't know her whole story. After I ended the call with Emmett, I was left quite confused and felt slightly guilty for being mad at her…well, just a little._

_Emmett had advised me to call her, though, and I agreed that I needed to. It was time to get this out in the open so she and I could get past it. I didn't really want to call her, as I wanted her to call me, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen. Alice herself had warned me not to be calling her every five minutes to see if we could talk, but I had given her over five weeks, and this shit just needed out._

_I gave myself one more day to think over what I wanted to say to her before I finally called._

The day has finally come; I am meeting Bella at her place today, at two-thirty this afternoon, and I'm nervous as hell.

I move from the cot and dial the number from my page and get the news that my six o'clock surgery on an eight week old is being rescheduled due to a fever. I really wish I could be in that surgery right now, concentrating on valves, vessels, and blood flow. Instead, I'm a nervous wreck, practically pulling every unruly strand of hair from my head.

I grab my bag from my locker and chat with some of the nurses for a while, giving them a few last instructions. I make one more round checking in on patients and finally make my way out of the PICU. I throw my bag into the back of the Volvo once in the parking garage and head back to my house.

The drive from the hospital to my place doesn't take long and soon I pull into my garage and head inside. It's now just a little after eight in the morning, but if I'm going to make it to Forks on time, I'm going to need to leave no later than nine o'clock or I won't make the four hour trip in time. I run upstairs and quickly throw together a weekend bag, packing a few sets of clothes as well as the essentials. I make my way into the closet and step out of my scrubs, debate on what to wear for a few minutes, and then scold myself, because it doesn't really matter. It's not like it's a date or anything. _Huh, what brought_ that _on?_ I need comfortable; this is going to be weird. I opt for my favorite pair of faded blue jeans and a button down shirt and my black Nike's. Casual, but comfortable. Yeah, that's how I think I should look; I don't want to come off looking like I am trying too hard. _Trying too hard for what? For crying out loud, has someone slipped me some estrogen?_

Shaking myself from the ridiculous thoughts running through my head, I grab my bag and head down to the kitchen, drob the bag by the door to the garage, then grab my phone and dial Mom & Dad's.

Mom answers. "Cullen Residence."

"Hey Mom."

"Hi, Edward. Aren't you supposed to be in surgery right now?"

"Yeah. We had to reschedule, the infant had a fever."

"Oh, that's too bad. But it's better to be safe. So, are you heading home soon then? Are you going to stop out to the house before going to see Charlie's daughter?"

I somehow keep forgetting that Bella is Charlie's daughter and that my mom and dad have that connection to her family.

"Well, I planned on going straight to her place, but that was only if I left right after surgery. I think I may get to town a bit sooner, so I think I will be. Is Alice supposed to be around?"

"No. Alice said she had to run to Tacoma for something. I didn't ask what for."

"Is Dad at the hospital today?"

"No, but he's on-call, so who knows what his schedule will look like. You know, Edward, if things start to get strained with Bella, you could bring her over here. I know your father would love to see her."

"Why would things get strained, Mom?" I ask, slightly annoyed. I don't want to be bothered by her suggestion, but I am.

"Calm down, Edward. I just know how passionate you get when telling a story, and just how you are in general. And this is quite a story to tell…so just keep it in mind. If you need a break, come on out."

"Okay. Thanks, Mom. I guess I'll be there a little after one o'clock or so."

"Ok, talk to you then, dear heart. Love you and drive safely."

"I will. Love you too, Mom." I disconnect the call. I love my mom, but at times, she is a bit too forward, although very considerate.

I quickly walk through the house and make sure all the lights are off and that the front door is locked. I never use it, but I still always check it. Yep, locked. I grab my bag and head out the kitchen door to the garage, locking it behind me.

As soon as I'm outside of Seattle, I grab my iPod and turn on some music; not really sure of what I'm in the mood for, I set it to shuffle. I try to focus on the upcoming conversation with Bella, and to imagine what she is going to say after I've told her. I think about how I'm sure she will react, but after awhile, the music variety has me imagining odd scenarios. I turn the shuffle off and just settle on classical.

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

The drive is long and after a while I think back to _that day_ when I finally left the hospital, feeling like a bundle of nerves. _What should have taken me a little over an hour to get back to my parents house that day, instead, took forty minutes, and that was even in the shoddy weather. When I banged my way into the house, mom was the first person I encountered. She knew from one look that I was ready to explode. She silently walked over to me and wrapped me in her arms. Petite as she may be, she is a fierce mother and protector. The hug was all it took, I just dropped the entire bomb of the afternoon and evening on her. She listened fully through to the end, and when she knew I was finished, she began to ask questions. After talking for about an hour, she casually changed the subject, somehow knowing that I was ready to be done talking about it all; I was relieved. I had nothing more to say of it._

_Throughout the past five weeks, she had occasionally brought it up, but I would quickly change the subject and she would drop it._

8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8

The drive to Forks is entirely too short in my current frame of mind, but, after four hours of driving, I decide that I can't predict how this is going to go down; I'm now resigned to wait and see. I pull up in front of my parents home, still wondering how the rest of this day will go, and park my car in front of the house. I step out and stretch my legs and arms before grabbing my bag from the back seat, and head inside. I place my bag by the door as I quietly remove my shoes, then pad up the stairs.

"Mom? Dad?" The house is quiet, but the lights are on.

"I'm in the library, Edward. Come on up." I retrace my steps to grab my bag and climb the flight of stairs, turning into the library. My dad sits at his desk rifling through a stack of papers.

"Hey, Dad. Where's Mom at?"

"Hi, Edward. She ran to the market to get a few ingredients for supper. She said that she would try to get back before your…_appointment._" He eyes me, and I can see the corner of his mouth just barely lift.

"What?" I know that look. And his tone at the word appointment; by appointment, he means date.

"Nothing really, it's just that your mother is getting a little excited with this, and I told her she shouldn't. This is hardly a celebratory gathering. And besides, you two aren't even planning to come out here, correct?"

"No, not at all. And she needs to keep her head straight about this. This is so far from being a date. It's going to be more depressing than anything. And if we _do_ show up, it may not be under the best of circumstances."

He nods, looking sad for a moment, then composes himself and changes his expression. "Edward. Just… be gentle and tell her slowly. As much as you want to get it over with - and she probably does as well - you need to make sure you get every detail out there. Don't throw it all at her at once. Give her some time to swallow it all down. Okay?"

I nod, agreeing. I glance at the clock and realize we have now been talking for thirty minutes.

"I better get going, Dad. I have to be there by two-thirty. What's Mom making for supper anyway?"

"Alfredo with asparagus and chicken."

My stomach grumbles; she _knows_ that's my favorite. She did that shit on purpose.

"Terrific." I grab my bag from the floor just outside of the office and head up to my old bedroom on the third floor. I toss it on the bed as I enter and make my way into my bathroom to make sure my shirt hasn't gotten all wrinkled on the drive. The shirt is fine, the hair is horrendous…as usual. I flip the light off in the bathroom, and in the bedroom as well, before heading back downstairs to the kitchen. Mom is just returning with her shopping bags and trying to hurry to the counter before she drops a bag.

I quickly grab the falling bag and then start pulling ingredients, helping to put them away. I turn and face my mother. "So, alfredo? Why on earth would you be making that when you know I won't be here?"

"HA! You're not the only one who likes it, Edward. It's a free country and I can make what I want, when I want."

"Yes, it is, Mother, but no one really likes it that much, except for me."

She shrugs. "I felt like making it."

I shake my head at her and the conversation is over with her leaving the kitchen. I follow her out, but she starts to head up the stairs. I look out one of the windows and see that within the forty-five minutes I have been here, it has started raining. I hop down the stairs and grab a jacket from a peg beside the front door since I didn't bother to bring my own.

"I'm taking off; I want to drive around for just a bit and still get there a bit early," I yell up the stairs.

Mom walks down a few steps. "Don't forget what I said, Edward. And be nice."

"I'm always nice. Bye." I wave at her and open the door before she has time to comment.

Once in my car, I shake my hair out and start the car; turning it around and head into town. The rain is really starting to come down, so I don't drive around for long. I locate her home and notice that it is only ten minutes after two; I'm really early, but don't want to put it off any longer.

I park my car in her driveway and put the hood up on my jacket. I have to run to the front door, with the rain coming down in sheets, my clothes are soaking through quickly. The front stoop is covered, and for that I'm thankful; but it won't help my hair out one bit, it's already clinging to my head and water rivulets run down my neck and into the back of my shirt. I should have brought an umbrella; I'm sure I look similar to a drowned rat.

I raise my hand to knock on the green door but it remains in the air, unmoving; the anxiety and stress of the last almost six weeks swirling in my chest. My nervousness makes me sweat a little, even in this cold, and now I'm praying I don't smell. Maybe I should go back and put on more deodorant; I should have done it when I was assessing my hair and clothes at home.

Just knock damn it. My fist makes contact with the door and I wait...and wait. I knock again. What's taking her so long?

"Just a minute. I'll be right there."

After a few minutes the door is opens.

I'm not expecting what I see. She's still beautiful, like I remember, but she appears to have lost weight, which actually has me fearful for her. They only times I've seen her was in the library - when she was running - but I was never able to get a close look at her face. The only other times I had seen her was when I pulled her from the ocean, looking close to dead, which was quite unpleasant, and then at the hospital. Even there she was pretty, but she looked incredibly washed out and sallow. I notice her staring at me, waiting for me to say something. _Snap out of it, Edward!_

"Ah, hi. How are you, Bella?"

"Hello, Edward. I'm good, come on in." She opens the door wider for me and I step in.

"You're early. I was counting on the last twenty minutes to finish up in the kitchen," she says as she walks into the house. I shut the door and quickly follow after her.

"Sorry, I got into town a little earlier than expected, my surgery this morning was canceled. I can help in the kitchen, if you like."

"I'm almost done, but come in." I follow her into the smallish kitchen and seat myself on a bar stool at the island.

"So why was your surgery cancelled?" She moves around the kitchen fluidly, looking into the oven and inspecting her creation.

"Well, the infant I was to operate on had a fever. I can't do the operation when there is an infection present, so we had to reschedule. The child needs the surgery, but she can go without it for a few more weeks."

She nods and continues to bustle around. "You want something to drink? I have a spicy, sweet wine, beer, or water."

"I'll take a beer. Thanks."

She bends over and reaches into the refrigerator; I would be lying if I said I didn't check out her backside. I did...and it is a very nice backside, but now is not the time to dwell on that, if ever. She turns back around, and thankfully my eyes are not still focusing on her pert little ass. She opens the bottle of beer and hands it to me.

I gladly take it from her and take a swig of it. "Thank you."

"Forgive me for saying so, Bella, but are you eating well? You look like you've lost weight since I last saw you, and you were skinny to begin with. I would know."

She had her back to me, standing at the sink, but quickly spins on her heel. She eyes me in a not-so-pleasant way.

"I do not intend to be bitchy here, but let's get one thing straight, Dr. Cullen…"

"Edward."

She lets out a huff of air. "Edward," she replies, with the tone of agitation evident.

"This is not a hospital, or a doctor's office, or even some small family practice for that matter." She pauses and gestures around her, waving her arm. "_This_, is my home, my safe haven. So I would appreciate it if you would check your stethoscope at the door. If you can't do that, then we're done here."

I look down for a second, buying time, and then back up into the brown pools of her eyes. My voice comes out quiet, yet rugged. "I apologize. You're right, but I have to admit that I am a bit concerned for you."

"I appreciate it, Edward, but there's no need to be, so...just, stop it. Okay?" She turns back around, returning to the oven and opens it.

If she weren't so skinny to the point of worrying me, it would almost be funny. Funny that this slight woman is putting me in my place as if I were a child. With anyone else I'd feel patronized, but for some reason I don't with her. However, her small frame is far from funny; I'll have to figure out a way to fatten her up a bit. _Making plans, Cullen?_

She pulls a tray from the oven and the divine smell hits my nostrils. My stomach immediately growls in response, eliciting a smirk from Bella.

"That smells absolutely divine, Bella. What is it?"

She laughs and it sounds like tinkling wind chimes. "Individual spinach quiches with shitake mushrooms, shrimp, bacon and a little bit of seasoned brie. I made dessert tarts as well."

"That sounds mouthwatering, what are the dessert tarts if I may ask?" My stomach growls even louder and my saliva glands seem to be working overtime. I hadn't realized I was so hungry until now.

"They're black and red raspberry tarts with a sweetened cream cheese. Of course, the berries are not in season now, but I still had some in my freezer from last year. They tasted fine after I thawed them, and there was no freezer burn."

She sounds a little nervous explaining herself, like I will think frozen berries are disgusting. "I'm sure they will taste perfect. Are we going to be eating soon?"

She smiles a little and now I simply feel like a goon; pretty soon I will resemble a drooling dog. "Yeah, we can eat now, Edward. I just want to put these on some plates and we can go into the living room. Um...feel free to look around if you like." She gestures to the rest of the house with the spatula she holds in her small hand.

I get up off the barstool, grab my beer from the island, and head out of the kitchen. In front of me is the living room, where Bella has a fire going. The house must be a bit old as there is no main light fixture in the room, but lit up with a variety of lamps, and of course the fire as well. A few pieces of artwork decorate the walls, and I make my way to the mantle to inspect the piece that rests above it.

It's maybe the most pivotal piece in the room and one of the most moving pieces I have ever seen. The atmosphere of the painting is nostalgic, and serene, but slightly haunting. There are mostly gray and blue hues with dirty-tan undertones. The light in the painting shines hazily through trees of a surrounding forest. The lone subject of the painting floats in its ubiquity; it invokes a feeling of shyness.

A Black Swan.

I search the painting, looking for a signature from the artist, just barely finding it. Just above the gilded frame in a deep scarlet paint is the signature. _IB. _IB? It takes me a moment and then in my mind, I see the name on the file I held five weeks ago. Isabella Black. She painted this? I move to the next painting in the room which is in a completely different style from the first painting. Again, _IB._ There are several other paintings in the small room, but they are all by various other artists. I retrace my steps back to the mantle, and lean in closer to look at the signature.

From behind me, a throat clears and I jump, bumping the grate in front of the fireplace. Thankfully, it doesn't fall over, although _I_ almost do.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. See something interesting?" She sounds like she is holding in a laugh.

"Go ahead, you can laugh. You scared me a bit. I guess I was engrossed. Ah, how long were you standing there?"

She laughs just a little. "Not long, only a few minutes."

I feel my eyes bug a little. This incites a bigger laugh from her. It's a nice sound, I need to figure out how to get her to laugh like that more often. _Much more often._

"I'm just kidding; I barely just walked in the room."

She walks the rest of the way into the room and sets the two plates on the table in front of a tan couch. "I'll just get my drink and then we can eat…and then talk." She sounds so reluctant to say the last part.

"Okay." I make my way to the couch and sit down at the far end. She returns with her drink and sits in the chair opposite of me and grabs her plate.

"Dig in?" It escapes her as a question.

I grab my plate and we both begin to eat. An awkward silence settles between us, but I'm not sure I should start yet.

"This is really good, Bella. You didn't have to cook, but I must tell you I'm glad you did."

She nods. "You say it's good like you're surprised. Had you pegged me as a horrible cook, Edward?

I like when she says my name. It sounds nice coming from her mouth, in her voice, rolling off her lips. I clear my throat. "No no. Not at all. I...that came out all wrong, I apologize."

"It's perfectly fine. I'm chiding you anyway, you seem nervous."

I take a deep breath. Honesty is best. "I guess I am a bit. It's just been a while, and to be honest, I'm afraid of how you're going to react to what I tell you." She simply nods.

"Well, why don't we just enjoy the rest of the meal, and then we can get to that."

We eat the rest of the meal talking about random things here and there. When we're finished, I help her carry our plates back to the kitchen and offer to help her wash the dishes; she refuses and says she'll get to them later. I turn to go back to the living room but see her reach into a cabinet above the refrigerator. She pulls down a bottle of whiskey.

She turns around and looks at me, raising an eyebrow. "One shot glass or two? I'm going to need liquid courage for this."

I don't think getting sloshed is a good idea for me, or for her, but I don't think one will hurt. "Two."

She nods and grabs two shot glasses. She gestures to the living room once again and I walk that way. My stomach churns a little bit.

"Could I use your restroom first?" I ask.

"Oh yeah. It's upstairs though, at the end of the hall." She points in the direction with her head.

I make my way up the stairs and to the restroom, close the door behind me and flip the light on; my nerves are bundling up in my stomach. I splash a bit of cool water on my face and then towel it dry. Assessing my hair in the mirror, I notice that it has dried, resuming its poofy defiance to me. I take a few deep breaths to clear my head and head back downstairs. Bella sits in the same spot as when I left her, waiting, with two shots poured and sitting in front of her. She picks hers up, so I sit and do the same.

"Um…I would toast, but this is not really the toasting kind of situation." She shrugs and tips the shot back. I follow her lead.

I have to agree. This is definitely not a toasting situation.

She screws the lid back on the bottle and after a few moments, looks up to me. Fear is etched into her eyes and her shoulders are quite rigid.

"Try to relax. I'm going to try to soften this the best I can, but I _am_ going to tell you everything."

She nods and sits back in the chair. "Ok, just go then."

So I do.

I tell her everything. I tell her about running through that downpour, following her. When I saw her bend over, and then straighten and run again. I tell her the way the sand felt under my feet and how it seemed to feel like such a long time before I got to the water and that she was already submerged. I explained my fear that I would be too late in that moment, knowing I still had to get that far out into the water and she was already under.

I tell her I was thankful for the lightening while submerged in water for the first time in my life; it allowed me to see underwater in the murky ocean to find her.

I explain what she looked like when I finally found her in the freezing water. Her hair flowing out from her head, like a halo.

I continue to tell her _our_ story, but by the time I hear her breathing begin to pick up, I'm almost to the end.

"Your brother pulled both of us to shore. I was close, but I thought we were both going down because I was tired and my limbs were beginning to tingle. I gave you mouth to mouth and you finally spit up water. And then you began apologizing to Emmett. After that, he took you to the hospital, and I followed, and you know the rest."

I wasn't looking at her, and hadn't through most of the story. I stole a glance now.

Tears streamed down her face as she too, looked down at the floor. She quickly looked up and caught my eyes. She stood up and started pacing in the small room,

She was looked trapped, boxed in. Unsure of what I should do, I thought of Esme.

I quickly stood up. "Come on." I held my hand out to her.

"What? Where?" Her last word came out all choked-up sounding; heartbreaking

"We both need some fresh air, maybe even a little bit of rain to get us out of this current mindset. Let's go."

She contemplates for a minute then swiftly goes to the front door and grabs a jacket from the antique coat tree. She hands me mine and opens the door; the roar of the rain is almost deafening.

"Should I grab an umbrella?" she asks loudly, trying to talk over the roar of the rain.

"I don't think it'll help. We will just have to run for it. My car is unlocked." She nods and I run first, knowing she will need to shut the door and turn the light out. I briefly worry about the fire, but it was close to burning out. Besides, we won't be at my parent's for long.

She is in the car after several moments and looks at me. Out of nowhere, she busts out laughing. "I'm sorry, but your hair is quite ridiculous in this rain."

I grimace at her a bit. "Well, Ms. Black, I'm glad I can amuse you." Truly, I'm just thankful that she is no longer crying; it was too heartbreaking.

She looks out the window as I start the car and then back to me. "So, where to?"

I back out of the driveway and head towards my parents house. "Someone else wants to see you tonight."

She looks at me sharply, questions in her eyes.

* * *

I'm sorry if there are typos...this was done in a hurry, but I promise I will be back in to fix over the weekend. Thank you for reading and reviewing.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: I'm going to try to keep this short. First and foremost, I need to say that I am so proud of this Twilight Fanfiction Community. The Fandom Gives Back Eclipse Round is up to approximately $136,000 and donations are still coming in. You are all an amazing bunch of people!

I want to say a big thank you to my WC crew who successfully helped me pull off the writing of Chapter 9 in just a little over two hours...HAPPENS! Huge thanks to my betas vasweetpea & Jules as well as my pre-readers. You are all wonderful.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters, they belong to SM. But this story is mine, so please don't steal it.

Warning: There is discussion of spousal abuse and the loss of a child, so if that bothers you, please heed this as your warning.

...no, for a different POV. It's kind of short, but we will be back to normal on the next chapter.

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Chapter 8

Esme POV

Just as I dump the fettuccine into the colander to drain, I hear a car pull up outside. I'm unable to contain the grin that creeps across my face.

They've come; this will please Carlisle so very much.

I let the pasta sit in the sink and go to the cupboard and fetch two more plates to put on the table. I add two forks, spoons, and napkins beside the plates, making room for Edward and Bella. I even bought new wine glasses earlier in the day in hopes that they would come and enjoy a glass of wine with us; I guess I can open the bottle now.

I return to the pasta, placing it back in the pan and give the sauce another stir before setting the heat to low. The window above the kitchen sink is sweating with dew from the pasta being drained, but I can still tell that it's pouring down rain outside.

"Carlisle?" I yell for him. He's still in the study, making notes for an upcoming procedure he will be doing. There will be a few students sitting in and he'll have to provide them with notes as well as answer forum questions after the surgery. This is only something he does a few times a year, but he enjoys it.

A few moments later he walks into the kitchen; my back is to him, but I feel his presence. I've always been aware of it - of him. I feel his chin come to rest on my shoulder.

"Yes, darling?"

The corner of my mouth pulls up and goose pimples raise on my skin as I feel his breath on the sensitive skin of my neck. This man still has the ability to move me in the smallest ways; I pray that Edward finds our happiness someday...soon.

"Would you be a dear and open the bottle of wine in the fridge for me? We have guests." I can't help the excitement from seeping into my voice.

"Guests? What guests?"

"Edward and Bella just pulled up, they should be in here any moment."

He looks toward the entryway. "I'll go get the door, it's pouring out there."

I nod and he walks away. A few minutes later I hear Edward's voice as well as a soft female voice. She sounds sweet, but sad.

While I have yet to meet Bella, I've heard about her many times - well - more about her father, but also of what she has gone through. Carlisle's never gone into great detail about what happened to her, just saying she was in an accident last year and that she suffered a great loss. He spoke, and still does speak of her father, though.

When Charlie first passed, Carlisle was a mess - which wasn't normal for Carlisle. Of course he deals with a great amount of death in his line of work and he has learned to swallow it, if somewhat bitterly. He gives the patients he loses their time of respect and then lets it go; if he didn't, he would've lost his mind a long time ago.

But it was different with Charlie; Carlisle had deep respect for him. He had raised Bella alone for so many years and was a good man; he took care of the community and was known for his humbleness. But if you were lucky enough to get to know him better, he showed you another side; he had quite a quirky sense of humor from what Carlisle tells me.

When Charlie passed, Carlisle had a really hard time letting it go. He had come to be pretty good friends with the Chief. Of course most of Carlisle's time was spent in the hospital, and Charlie was brought there quite often due to his line of work; it was only a matter of time before the two of them had become friends.

Carlisle returns to the kitchen and pulls out the bottle of wine to open.

"I asked Edward to show Bella around, she seems a bit nervous." His voice is quiet, contemplative. He completes his task quietly.

"I imagine tonight is very difficult for her. Perhaps we should try to keep the dinner discussion as light as possible?"

"I agree, Esme." He grabs my hand brushing his thumb across my knuckles. "Shall we eat then?"

"Yes, everything is ready. Would you call them?"

He nods his head and walks out of the kitchen. I hear him yell for Edward and Bella and then muffled chatter comes from the direction of the dining room.

We eat our evening meal in a comfortable chatter. The topics are light and comfortable. Edward and Bella eat lightly due to the fact that they ate a little before they came over. I'm relieved at this, because Bella looks horribly skinny. I ask Bella many questions about her work; I have a deep love of art. She tells me that it's been a while since she has worked on anything, but that she plans to start again soon; she is awaiting inspiration. When we are all finished and full we make our way into the den, where the piano sits.

I look to my son. "Edward?"

"Do I have to, Mom?" He looks a little sheepish.

"Please. Just one or two?" I know he will. I know he wants to, but doesn't want come off as a show off. I often ask him to play after supper when he's visiting and miss the days when he was still at home with us and played every day.

He nods his head and moves to sit on the bench at the piano. I watch Bella watch him.

"Play one of yours, Edward." He nods and begins to play. I think Bella's jaw practically leaps off of her face.

I lean close to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. "Edward has played since he was four years old, and has been composing since he was twelve." I'm not bragging, but I won't say I'm not proud. His playing makes the most stoic person want to weep and laugh all at once.

"He's amazing. I mean, I don't think I've ever heard anything so beautiful. It's almost haunting really, in some parts anyway," she whispers back to me, like she doesn't dare mar the sound in the room.

I reach my hand down to hers where it dangles at her side and squeeze it. "He wrote it the night he came home from meeting you."

She squeezes my hand back at that, just quickly, and then releases it. I motion for her to have a seat in the chair by the fireplace.

Edward plays two more songs, and then we talk for quite a while. I notice that the time is growing late and I excuse myself to the kitchen to clean things up.

"Esme, may I help you clean up?"

I jump a little. "Oh! Bella, you startled me a bit. Thank you, but you're our guest. Besides, I only have to load the dishwasher and hand-wash a few larger pans."

"Well, the men are talking shop, I don't really fit into that conversation well. Would you mind if I just sit at the island then?"

"I wouldn't mind that at all, actually. I'd love it."

I wash dishes as we talk. She speaks of her brother a little bit, and I can tell that she respects him very much. Without me noticing, she somehow sidles herself up beside me and begins drying what I've washed. She seems comfortable like this, so I let her be. I direct her where to put things away when she asks.

I hand her a dripping metal pot to dry as I begin on the cutlery.

"Where does this one go?" She holds the dry stock pot in her hand.

"Oh, that one I keep above the range. There's a little step ladder through the laundry room. Do you want me to grab it?"

"No, I can get it." She walks through the door and comes back with the step stool, placing it in front of the range. She climbs up and opens the cupboard door; I hand her the pot to make sure she will not lose her balance and fall. She lifts her arms up a bit to put the pot on the shelf.

And then I see it, just as her shirt rises up a little from the movement of her arms. I see the faint line of a scar on her abdomen. I'm unable to see just how big it is from the angle, and I don't want to gawk at her either.

"It's from the accident." She looks at me, with the easiness of our last conversation gone.

"What is dear?" She catches me off guard and I feel bad that I had been staring.

"My scar. You made a noise. You saw my scar, right?" she asks me as she climbs down the step stool.

"I'm sorry; I'm so rude. I didn't mean to stare, I just, didn't realize. Carlisle only told me there was an accident, you know, confidentiality and all that."

She nods her head, then looks at me a little shyly. She pulls her shirt up just a bit and reveals the scar I had only glimpsed. It's actually quite large, and in a semi-circle around her belly button.

She traces it with her finger, "It's from a piece of glass from the passenger side window. It would've just sliced me open, a flesh wound, but then I shot forward into the dash and put pressure on it, which made it actually puncture my abdomen. I believe Carlisle tried to close it up as quickly as possible to stop the bleeding and protect …" she stopped her course of words. "That's why the stitching is puckered."

She walks back to the sink and begins washing the rest of the utensils. I let her and pick up the towel she'd been drying with, reversing our roles. We stand there in silence, doing the dishes, and her scar keeps flashing in my mind. Carlisle's words from last year replay over and over in my head, his anguish was so heavy. He had wanted to tell me more, but I wouldn't let him, afraid that too much would be said and I would blurt it out in front of the wrong people and get him into trouble.

And then it just kind of hits me. "Protect what, Bella?" She drops whatever she was washing, and it makes a muddled clank at the bottom of the sink.

I stare at the side of her face as she looks out the kitchen window into the darkness. Her chest rises and falls a little quicker and her lip quivers, just once.

I barely hear her.

"Them." Is all she says.

Oh good God in Heaven.

I take her wet hands out of the water and grasp them in mine. I want to pull her to me like my daughter, but I've been down a road close to hers. I look into her eyes and see the panic there. I just nod my head, I understand. She's close to tears, but I don't want to put her into that kind of awkward situation and have her face Edward with red rimmed eyes.

"Can I tell you something, Bella?"

She nods her head and I pull her to the island, guiding her to a bar stool. I go back to the fridge and pull out two bottles of beer, open them, and go to sit beside her at the island.

She pulls a long drink from her bottle and takes a deep, shaky breath.

I take a drink, then begin. "Before I met Carlisle, I was married to another man." I feel her eyes on me, but I continue. "We were high school sweethearts, and were married shortly after graduation. I had intended on going to college the following year, but I got pregnant. I was excited, but at the same time, not. I wanted to go to college first, it was important to me. My husband, Danny, said that I could go later, but that I didn't really need to. That made me mad. It felt like he was trying to control me, and he was using our unborn child to do so. I decided to look into some courses at the community college. I worked during the day to help pay the bills, so I was only able to take night courses, which didn't really bother me. I didn't tell Danny right away. I knew he wanted me to stay home and would be angry with me for a while, but a week before my classes were to begin, I knew I had to talk to him about it. I made a really nice meal that night, and after supper, I told him." I pause and take a drink of my beer. Bella does the same.

"Then he hit me. And he hit me again, and again. I ran up the stairs and into the first door, the bathroom. There was no phone so I figured I would just stay in there until he calmed down. I couldn't crawl out the window as it was too small for me to fit through, and it was on the second story anyway. But he began banging at the door, and the next thing I knew, he had broken _through_ the door. He swore at me and called me ugly things. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me down the staircase. Our neighbor called the police and I was taken to the hospital …which is where I met Carlisle."

"You know …" I pause, looking for the strength to say the next few words. "I lost the baby. I wasn't incredibly far along, about twelve weeks. I was still in the first trimester and barely showing. Carlisle was my doctor, and when he told me, he was shaking. He was barely able to hold back the tears, but he did. He didn't even know me, yet he had all this compassion and sorrow for me. I told him it would be okay, although I didn't really believe it myself."

I look at our hands that are still joined, and I take hers in both of mine. "I hope you don't find me a sick or mean person when I say this, Bella, but it's important to my story. Of course I was sad that the child had died, but I couldn't find it in myself to really be sick about it. It's true that I hadn't been excited about the child, and I hadn't really felt any connection to it. Does that make me a horrible person? I don't know, but the truth is, I wouldn't change any of it. Not a single moment. It brought me to what I have now, and what I have now is absolutely perfect in every way."

At that moment, a throat cleared behind me. Edward stood there with a look of confusion on his face. I'm not sure how much he heard of my story, although he already knows it. We don't hide things in this family, but I'm sure that if he did hear, he will be confused behind my reasoning for telling her.

I finish off my beer and stand up, as does Bella. I pull her into a hug. "If you ever need to talk, you know where I live," I whisper to her quietly.

She nods her head and walks over to Edward just as Carlisle enters the room.

"It was so nice to see you again, Carlisle. My dad talked about you often, he considered you a good friend."

I look to Carlisle and see him swallow thickly. He nods his head. "Thank you, Bella, and it was very nice seeing you again as well. You are welcome in our home any time."

She nods her head and Edward gently pushes her toward the foyer by placing his hand on the small of her back. His gentleness melts my heart a little bit more.

I make my way toward Carlisle as I hear the door click shut behind them. My arms go around his torso and my head to his broad chest. I feel the warmth of his arms around my shoulders and he rests his head on mine.

"That poor woman. She has been through so much. She's strong; I could see in her eyes that she wants to try again, but she's so frightened. I hope she tries again."

I feel Carlisle nod his head.

"Let's go to bed. It has been a very long day."

"I love you, Carlisle."

"And I love you, Esme."

* * *

Thank you all for reading, it means a lot to me. Chapter 9 should be along shortly.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter took a turn that I didn't have planned. So, we got a little bit more into our EdwardxBella interaction. Things are going to get kind of crazy and I'm really looking forward to get the next few chapters written. They are mulling around and my head and I need them on paper.

Thank you so much to my wonderful WC crew for whipping (ahem) me into shape when I get to chatty or just being all out lazy. A special thanks to SweetVenom69 for helping me plot this baby out and pinpoint what I want to happen when.

Also, I auctioned a back story outtake for The Underside of Earth to My Vamp Fiction and it will be some of Bella and Jakes history. I want to work on that soon, but plan to have a few more chapters of the actual story out before then…so I don't reveal any secrets in it :)

Many thanks to my ever so lovely betas ~ Jules & vasweetpea! Thank you so much for all you do ladies!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. They belong to SM.

The Underside of Earth by loss4words 2010 – please do not steal

* * *

Chapter 9

Bella's POV

Edward and I once again find ourselves running through the rain to get to the car, hopping over puddles in the driveway to quickly escape the downpour surrounding us. As I settle into the leather seat I stare ahead of me, at the front of the Cullen's home. I'm doing my best to control my breathing that is coming in quick, yet heavy pants. Edward starts the car up and pushes a couple of buttons on the dash; cool air blasts me in the face and I slam myself to the back of the seat.

"Sorry," Edward mumbles. I shrug my shoulders in response, still refusing to look at him.

I feel his eyes on me and I wonder what he is thinking, I wonder if he heard any of the exchange between his mother and me. I don't know what to do with his eyes on me and the car not moving; my breathing resumes its frantic pace and I tightly grip the seat as if it will keep the anxiety attack at bay.

"Bella?" His soft voice whispers my name but I don't answer, afraid that my emotions will betray me.

I look down at my lap and suddenly feel his warm hand on my shoulder; it feels soothing, comfortable, like he has done it many times.

"Are you okay?"

Slowly, I turn to him, still looking down at my lap, hands still gripping the seat until I remember to let go. I rub my hand over my face, attempting to distract myself from the emotions that have built up. Scared, confused, lonely, desperate, sad, pain, love, loss, _like. _No no. Please not like. _I don't want to like him. He saved me life, I must let him go before I kill him. _

"Could you please take me home, Edward?" I ask. He says nothing for several moments and I wonder if I said it out loud or in my head. I almost hope I said it in my head, because I no longer recognize the sound of my own voice. I turn back to the front windshield, again staring at Edward's parent's home.

He either heard me, or takes the hint because he quickly shifts the car into gear and turns the car toward the lane and away from the house, toward my home. The drive doesn't take long, and Edward soon pulls up in my driveway. He shifts the car into gear and I think about what I should say to him. I know that I should say something; he came all this way to tell me what happened after I avoided him for weeks, and when I freaked out after hearing it all, he distracted me by taking me to see his folks. He really is a nice guy, and attractive as hell. It makes me wonder why someone like him would take the time and effort, to help me through all of this.

I look up at my house and sigh; it's dark and I forgot to leave the porch light on. I'm notorious for doing that kind of thing, it was one of the things that always drove Jake crazy. A pang of guilt and sorrow slams me in the chest and I feel a strong need for my bed.

"Thank you for coming all this way to talk to me, Edward, and filling me in on what happened that day. I'm truly sorry that I thrust all of this at you, but I hope you believe me when I say that I am incredibly thankful that you were there. I need you to know that I wasn't trying to kill myself. I could never do that." _I don't think._ I stop my rambling and pinch the bridge of my nose, a nervous habit. Before I say any other random mortifying thoughts, I quickly grab the handle of the door, push it open, and step out of Edward's car. _Have I been rude to him? _I lean down and stick my head back in the car. "I don't mean to sound bitchy or come off as ungrateful, but if I did, I apologize."

I glance back at my dark home. "Would you like to come in for tea or something? Or not...you may need to get back, it's getting late," I say as I feel the embarrassment announce itself in my cheeks. "Nevermind, have a good night, Edward."

I quickly shut the car door and make my way up the walkway, pulling my keys from my pocket as I come to the front door. Behind me, I hear the purr of the engine cut off and turn around to see Edward walking up the foot path.

"Actually, a cup of tea would be perfect, if the offer still stands?" He offers me a small, unassuming smile. I nod and turn back to the door and unlock it; Edward follows me in.

Once inside, I begin to question why I invited him in. I fully intended on going straight to bed, but I let my mouth get away from me. At the same time, I know that if I go up to that bed and lay in it right now, sleep won't come. In fact, I don't think sleep will be coming to me for quite a while. No, it will be only nightmares that visit me for some time.

Edward clears his throat behind me and I wonder how long I've been standing in the dark house and deliberating inside of my head.

"Sorry," I whisper and quickly flick on the hall light. I remove my coat and hat before pulling the grate away from the fireplace in the living room. I reach for the wicker basket that holds kindling and retrieve the long match sticks from the table beside the mantle.

"I could do that for you, if you like," Edward offers.

I look up at him and give him a small smile in thanks. Edward beams back at me like I've just awarded him a prize and I feel a bit awkward and undeserving. Still, that smile does something to me, and as much as I don't want to admit to it, my _like_ for him grows a small fraction. Damn it. I quickly hand him the match sticks and let him take over the fire-building chore and I move off into the kitchen but stop as I come to the doorway. I chance a glance back at him and already see him working to build the fire. My chest clenches at the site, the hole that opened up a year ago expands, yet contracts at the same time. It's both agonizing and a bit comforting to see a man sitting at the hearth again - building a fire for me. I turn back around and escape to the kitchen to make our tea as Edward completes the task I relinquished. I turn the gas burner to high on the stove and fetch my metal tea pot to fill with water, then put it on the stove.

"What kind of tea do you drink?" I holler from the kitchen.

"I don't care as long as it has caffeine," he replies.

I reach in my island drawer and pull out my stash of tea. I have quite a variety, because for some reason, whenever I am in that isle at the grocery store, I feel the need to buy more. I also keep a small jar of loose tea that I order from an online company. It's expensive, but incredibly good; I decide tonight is as good a night as any to indulge. After several minutes of fishing through my utensil drawer, I find my diffuser and fill it with the raspberry-vanilla tea. The teapot whistles it's readiness about a minute later and I remove it from the heat, turn the burner off, then pour a little bit of the water out in the sink.

When the tea is ready I pull two large, brown mugs from the cabinet and fill each of them to the brim. I leave and inch or so of room - in case I need to add...something to it. As I reach the living room I notice that Edward has not turned any other lights on. There is only the low light from the hallway and the glow of the growing fire he built. Edward's back is to me as he kneels at the fireplace, stocking the fire and rearranging the logs. I watch him for a minute, staying as quiet as possible as I stifle a giggle as I notice his crazy hair once again. Most of it is slightly matted to his head - from the torrential downpour that we ran through several times tonight - except for one rebellious strand. It sticks straight out from the side of head, just above his ear; I feel an irrational need to slick it down with the palm of my hand and my own saliva - something my mother used to do to Emmett when a comb and water or gel were not available. I want to smooth it down for him, or run my fingers through the rest of it to make it match the unruly strand.

_Where did_ that _come from?_

I clear my throat to let Edward know that I'm re-entering the living room and set the two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Edward turns to me and smiles once again; I really wish he would stop smiling at me so much...in that way of his.

"Um, I'm just going to get one more thing. I'll be right back." I quickly run back to the kitchen and pull my unopened bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. Yep, I need more alcohol. A hot toddy never hurt anyone.

I set the bottle of Irish whiskey on the table next to the mugs as Edward is, once again, looking at my painting above the hearth. When he turns back around, he looks down at the table, then back up to me, quirking an eyebrow in question.

"Ah, you don't have to have any of course, but, I think the alcohol was soaked up by all that food, and I'm feeling like another drink. You don't have to, because I know you have to drive - well of course you don't _have_ to," I ramble on. I need to shut up, so I do...mid-sentence, or rambling.

Edward chuckles. "I think I could deal with a little bit and still manage to drive. I only have to make it out to my parents, so the drive isn't too much of a worry for me."

I uncap the bottle and pour some in my cup, then pass it to Edward. After that, we just talk. The whiskey loosens me up a little bit and I'm surprised at how easy it is to confide in Edward. We don't talk about many personal things that will move into dark territory for me, but I really enjoy our conversations. We started out sitting far apart from each other - me in Jake's chair and Edward on the floor - but as the night grows later and we both continue to spike our tea, we both end up sitting on the couch, facing each other. Edward has said something ridiculous and I am laughing so hard I'm crying, because I snorted, which made Edward laugh so hard that _he_ snorted. And then it does it without my permission - my hand that is - moves to tousle the rest of Edward's hair to match that strand that has been bugging me all night. Before I realize what I'm doing, I've already done it and I see Edward's eyes change. I quickly pull my hand back but Edward is quick, and catches it in his own.

"Don't," he pleads. "It was an innocent move, and it's okay."

He knows me already. He has gone from being some random guy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time to a guy that I've laughed with, that I like, that I'm getting to _know _and want to know even more. Really, I don't want this, but I do...and don't.

***I feel my heart begin to race as I internally berate myself and wonder what the fuck I am doing. I can't like Edward. I fucking can't. I'm married...well I was, am. I still am, because it's not like I fucking divorced Jake. He died. That doesn't make me not married. It makes me his fucking widow, and it also makes me the mother to..._don't go there, Bella! _If I go there, I will turn into a bawling puddle of goo in front of Edward, and he will have to save me yet again. I reach for my glass and empty it yet again. Edward notices and quickly refills it with the fresh pot of tea, but doesn't put any whiskey in. I grab the whiskey and take care of it myself and Edward simply nods, then quickly stands up.

"Do you have a computer? I want to show you something," he declares as he looks around the room. He has a wicked gleam in his eye and I wonder what he is up to.

I nod to the table by _the _chair where my laptop sits. Edward grabs it and brings it back to the couch with him and hands it to me. I don't ask but simply power it up and wait for everything to load. When the Internet page is up and running, I hand it back to him silently, but wonder what the hell he is going to show me.

Edward taps at the keys for a couple of minutes and I drink my hot toddy as I wait. I'm beginning to feel a good buzz - a really good buzz - which makes me worry about Edward, because he has been drinking as much as I have and he has to drive home. I think he may be camping on my couch tonight and I hate and love that I both love and hate that.

"Okay. Here it is. Now, believe it or not, it was my Mom that showed me this website. Shocking, I know. But this is some really funny shit." Edward was already giggling a little at the pictures on the page and he turned it to me. The website was called "The People of Wal-Mart." I groaned a little and rolled my eyes at him.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask him without really looking at anything except the title.

"Stop! Just give it a chance. Look at the pictures."

And this is what brings me out of my unexpected funk. Edward clicks from page to page and at one point I'm laughing so hard I have to excuse myself to go to the restroom, fearing that I may piss myself. When I get back, Edward has a fresh mug of tea and whiskey, which solidifies that he will be sleeping on my couch tonight...whether he wants to or not.

We look at the ridiculous pictures of the People of Wal-Mart for a little while longer, until I am no longer able to stifle my yawns. I'm not the only one who is tired, as Edward too, can't stop yawning.

"I should probably head ou…," Edward says as he stands up, but stumbles a little. I interrupt him.

"Oh no you don't. You're sleeping on my couch tonight. No arguments, so shut up in advance," I warn.

"I won't argue, I agree. I just didn't want to put you in an awkward position."

I stand up from the couch, swaying ever-so-slightly, and grab our empty mugs and the now almost-empty bottle of whiskey, and deposit them in the sink. On the way out, I flip the kitchen light off, as well as the hallway light and quickly run upstairs to grab a pillow and a couple of blankets for Edward. When I come back down he is working to put the fire out and I place his temporary bedding at the end of the couch.

"So, um...I need to say something, and I'm not sure where to start. Ah, thank you. Thank you for everything, Edward. I was really dreading this, and I'm sure you figured that out, but really, it wasn't horrible. I know that I owe you my life and I want to thank you for saving me that day. Thank you for coming here tonight and tell me what happened, and thank you for taking me to your parents. And thank you for also distracting me this evening, because I know that if you hadn't come in for the tea...and whiskey, my night would have been much worse. So, just, um...thank you for everything. I feel lucky to have met you."

I quickly turn to run up the stairs, a bit embarrassed by my confession, but he calls to me before I am even half turned.

"Bella, wait."

I turn back toward him but keep my focus on the carpet. I wish I could be much more drunk in this moment. Edward walks to me and stands just two feet in front of me, maybe less, on the verge of entering my personal space. I don't know what he is thinking, or planning to do, but I pray to God he doesn't to want I want and don't want him to do. _Kiss me. Please don't kiss me._

"Look at me please?" he requests.

I take a deep breath and look up at him and see that he has a soft, endearing smile on his face. Not predatory, not wanting, but comforting. His arms come out and around me and he pulls me to him, hugging me. I don't know what to do at first, shocked by his touch and his closeness. I feel his chin rest on the top of my head and I kind of expect that he will say something, but he doesn't. I slowly raise my arms up to go around his waist and truthfully, I can't deny that this feels good. No, this feels incredible, but it also scares the shit out of me. He holds me a bit longer and then pulls me away from him a small fraction and looks me in the eyes searching for something - what, I don't know. He leans in and pecks me on the forehead, then drops his arms. I'm stunned.

"If you hear movement up in your bathroom, it will just be me, so don't worry," he says as he fluffs out his blankets.

I nod at him, go lock the front door, then climb the stairs to my bed. What a weird fucking day. I rush through my night routine in a hurry, worrying that Edward may need the bathroom and within five minutes, I'm laying underneath my covers. I worry that sleep won't come easily, after our discussion this afternoon, but I yawn and feel the heaviness in my eyelids. I know sleep will come quickly tonight...and it does.

~0~

_Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz. I sit up in bed, hearing a humming/buzzing sound. I think I've heard it before, but from where, I can't be sure. My stomach feels weird again, maybe I need to go to the restroom._

_I pull the covers off of me and get out of bed but then the weirdness in my stomach becomes uncomfortable, like a tugging sensation. I know I've felt this before. I don't like this feeling. I walk from my bedroom and intend to go to the bathroom, but I miss the doorway and can't stop, I can't turn around. I keep walking until I am in front of the closed doorway of _their_ room. The tugging is getting stronger and stronger and I feel like I could throw up._

_My hand reaches up and out, twists the knob, and the door opens. I look down at my long t-shirt as the tugging sensation gets stronger and see something poking against the fabric, moving it. Slowly, I reach down and grip the hem of the shirt, which rests at my thighs, and slowly pull it up. I pull it above my panties, above my waist line and up to my diaphragm and I see them. Thousands of them. Black beetles pouring out of me, out of my stomach. I feel each and every one of their tiny legs gripping and pinching at my skin as they ripple like waves out of the gaping hole in my abdomen. The call of the swarm roars in my ears and I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes out._

_I cry and try to scream for Jake, and this time, sound comes out, but it isn't Jake's name that comes out, but Edward's. I scream and all of a sudden, everything goes quiet. Two of the beetles flutter up with open, black wings and cry out to me. At the same time, they click out ma-ma at me and it's in two varying tones, one low and one high. I raise my hand to cup them, then fall to the floor._

~0~

I wake up screaming on the floor of the nursery. Edward cradles me in his arms, shushing me and trying his best to calm me down. I push my fists against him, at first scared and confused, but then I melt into his embrace. We sit there, with him rocking me for some time, the irony in that is almost comical, but I'm in no mood for funny. I sigh into his chest and slowly, he picks me up from the floor, carries me back to my room and lays me down on my bed, covering me back up.

"Bella," he says. It comes out choked.

"Please don't leave me alone, Edward."

* * *

I would love to know what you think :)


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thanks for your patience so much on this chapter. It's taken me a bit longer than I like but there has just been so much going on! I know, excuses excuses.

I have some exciting news. The Underside of Earth has been nominated for a Glove Award for Best Heartbreak Award so, ah, go vote? http:/thegloveawards(dot)webs(dot)com/vote(dot)htm

Also, if any of you are reading my other story, The Change-Up, it has been nominated for a Golden Lemon Award for Best Slash. You can find the link to vote here :) http:/www(dot)goldenlemonawards(dot)com/nominations/best-slash-2/

Now, I also have to plug a contest that I'm co-hosting with SweetVenom69, my ficfiance. Trust me when I say that this contest could get totally crazy and there could be some wacky entries, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE submit an entry? Please? http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/~thefreakyfridaycontest

The last thing I want to pimp out would be The Slash Backslash Contest 2.0. I gotta say, I love my slash. The link is here http:/www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/~slashbackslash Voting starts very soon!

Okay, all done with that. If you're still with me, thank you! I want to extend my great thanks to my betas Jules & vasweetpea and the wonderful, lovely, shabbyapple on Twilighted! Thanks for all you do ladies! Also, thank you to SweetVenom69 for pre-reading and making me throw out the stuff that just DOESN'T work. ily! Also, my WC crew rocks! Thanks for cracking that whip – over and over and over again.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or the characters. They belong to SM, but this story is mine. Please don't steal, it's not nice.

The Underside of Earth © 2009-2010 loss4words

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Chapter 10

EPOV

I wake with a start, forgetting where I am and whose bed I'm sleeping in. Taking a look around, I notice the room I've woken up in; the room is painted a soft, yellow color with slightly feminine décor. There is strand of holiday lights that hang around the room that I didn't notice until just now, giving off a warm, golden glow and the carpet is a bluish color, shag; I see the outline of what appears to be an art easel in the corner and I remember. I'm at Bella's…and apparently in her bed. The events of the previous night flash through my memory and I slowly flip over to my other side to look at the woman lying beside me.

Bella still sleeps next to me on the plush bed and does so very quietly; I can barely hear the air escape her lips as she breathes. Studying her face, I notice a faint splattering of freckles across her nose and cheek bones and there are tiny, new hairs that grow along her hairline. Her nose is dainty and as I study her harder, I notice that her red lips are slightly disproportionate - the right side of her top lip has a pinkish outline further out from the rest of her lip, when the left side doesn't. Her hair partially fans out around her head on the pillow while some of it is stuck to her face. My fingers twitch, desperate to move the hair from her face, but I'm afraid I'll wake her so I leave it as it is. Her form is small and frail – something I can tell even under the heavy blankets that cover her.

Everything about her is so womanly: her petite frame, her hair, her nose, the fan of her eyelashes along her cheek. She is incredibly beautiful, something I noticed the first second I ever laid eyes on her, but there is also something else about her that seems to lure me to her. As much as I hate to admit to myself, I'm growing very close to this woman. This heart broken woman, who needs to be fixed and I have no idea if she wants to be fixed, or whether she'll let me be the one to fix her.

Bella sighs in her sleep and it breaks me away from my thoughts. Gently, I lift myself from the bed so as not to wake her and make my way downstairs. Searching through her cupboards, I locate her coffee grinder and beans as well as two mugs. There is a dull pounding in my head from the consumption of alcohol last night so I quietly make my way to her bathroom in search of something to dull the daggers I feel at my temples.

When I open the medicine cabinet, I'm not ready for what I see. There is a variety of incredibly strong pain killers: Dilaudid, Oxycontin, Percocet and I immediately wonder what kind of pain Bella has endured to be prescribed these types of meds. Spotting the Ibuprofen, I quickly grab the bottle then shut the door, feeling like I'm invading her privacy. I may be really curious about the meds and why they're in there, but it's rude to snoop. I tap out six of the tablets and fill the cup next to the sink with water, swallow three of them down, and then refill the cup with water. Quietly, I re-enter the bedroom and set the cup of water and the remaining three ibuprofen on the bedside table. Bella sighs again and I quickly try to make my way out of the room without waking her, but she's already awake.

"Good morning, Edward. Is that coffee I smell?" she inquires.

I turn around in the doorway to face her and smile. "It is, and I just set a cup of water and some Ibuprofen on the table by the bed for you. I'm not sure how many you take, so I left you three.

"Three is what I take. Thank you. I'll be down shortly."

I nod and turn back around, making my way back down to the kitchen. The coffee is ready so I pour out two cups, and then go in search of cream and sugar. I'm unable to locate the sugar, so I open the fridge and look for cream or milk, then see a small jug of French Vanilla flavored coffee creamer. I pull that out and set it beside her cup and then open a few drawers in search of a spoon.

Not even a minute later, Bella stumbles into the kitchen. Her hair looks like a bird started building a nest in it, only to abandon the job halfway through.

"My head is _killing_ me. Why did we decide to add whiskey, again?" she asks as she grips her head, massaging her temples.

"The whiskey was all your idea. Not mine," I remind her and chuckle.

She rolls her eyes at me and stumbles up to the island, sitting down one of the bar stools. She picks up the coffee creamer and dumps a hefty amount of creamer into her coffee, then stirs.

"Do you want some coffee with that creamer, Bella?" I tease.

"I know, right? I could probably just drink the creamer," she admits, then takes a sip of the coffee. She gasps. "Shit, I do that every fucking day." She looks at me and explains, "I burned my fucking tongue."

I quickly turn around and move to the coffee pot to refill my cup, because honestly, hearing her say the word 'fucking' so early in the morning, or at all, kind of does something to me, and if I don't distract myself, I may sport an unwelcome erection.

Turning back around, I take a sip, then sputter, because now I've burned my fucking tongue. Bella laughs at me and I return the eye roll. We are in her kitchen, her sitting at the bar and me leaning against the counter, drinking our coffee. At first, it's comfortable, and if I admit it to myself, really fucking nice and something I could get used to, but then the atmosphere seems to grow tense, leaving me feeling slightly awkward.

"So, ahh…" I start.

"Look, Edwar…" Bella says at the same time.

We both stop and laugh nervously. "You first," I offer.

She nods at me. "I'm really sorry about last night, Edward. Um, sometimes I have bad dreams…and I'm really sorry that you had to witness that. But I want to say thank you, I'm actually really grateful that you were here."

I don't really know what to say. I have questions – a lot of them – but something about the look on her face and in her eyes tells me not to ask them today. "I'm glad I could be here for you, Bella."

She offers me a small, soft smile and looks down at her coffee. The awkward silence continues and I quickly finish off my coffee. I should be heading home anyway.

"I think I'm going to take off. I need to stop at mom and dads before I head back to Seattle and I don't want to get home too late, either."

Bella stands up from the island and walks with me toward the front door. Grabbing my coat, I slip my arms inside and over my shoulders, pull my stocking hat from the pocket and stick it on my head. Bella has a funny look on my face, but quickly shakes herself, noticing that I'm watching her.

"Okay, well. I guess this is goodbye then, but I'm sure we'll see each other at some point, with our group of friends and all," I say, praying that this isn't the end. I don't know what it is about this woman, but I want to know her more. I want to help her and I want her to want to know me more. I reach down to give her a light squeeze around her shoulders, because she all of a sudden looks like she could cry, then open the front door. As soon as I do, she speaks.

"Wait. Um, I know that you were unwillingly thrown into my mess of a life, Edward, and I'm sorry for that, truly. I just – I think that I would like to talk to you more, if you'd be open to that. I like you, and I can see us being friends. Do you think we could be friends?" she asks.

I sigh, relieved. "Yes, we can definitely be friends, Bella. That would make me quite happy, to be honest," I admit. "I already have your number; did you save mine when I called that time?"

"Yeah, I have your number," she replies.

"Okay. Call me whenever you want. I tend to have a lot of free time when I'm at the hospital and a call would be nice."

On my drive home, I think over the events of the previous evening. The easy banter between Bella and myself, her sadness, depression, the meds in her bathroom cabinet...but mostly, that episode when I heard her screaming on the floor above me.

Nothing could have made me move faster.

_My eyes finally fall shut, and remain that way. The alcohol makes it easy for me to relax on Bella's couch and the heat from the fire still makes the room cozy and warm. I feel myself drift but suddenly jump awake. Was that a scream I heard or was it a dream? I hear another scream, and it is definitely real._

_I jump up from the couch, tripping over the afghan that covers me, but catch myself and run up the stairs in twos. I run to Bella's room but she isn't there, the bed, empty. I retrace my steps and see she is not in the bathroom either, and head down the other hallway, where I have yet to see. _

_There is a door only five steps from the doorway to the bathroom and I see Bella's shadowed form sitting on the floor, not quite inside the room. She is crying and murmuring but I can't make out what she is saying. She grips her stomach and begins to panic in her sleep so I quickly sit down on the floor behind her and scoop her up into my lap. She shudders and quiets, but continues to cry._

_I hold her to me, unsure of what to do or what is going on, smoothing her hair away from her face and humming quietly to calm her down. After a few minutes her body relaxes into mine and she seems to have once again, fallen asleep. Without jumbling her around too much, I climb up on my knees - with her still in my lap - and stand up to take her back to her bed. _

_As I stand and turn to head down the hallway and back toward Bella's bedroom, something I see in my peripheral vision catches my attention. I peer around the door jamb to further inspect what I had seen, Bella still cradled against my chest._

_I squint my eyes a little more and if it's what I think it is, I'm looking at the shape of an infant's crib._

_WHAT. THE. FUCK?_

_I want to inspect further, but Bella mumbles against my chest and I remember that I'm still holding her, so I pull myself from the doorway and carry her back to her room, lay her down in her bed, and pull the covers up over her._

The images from last night continue to loop through my mind. Was that a baby crib? Was that really what I had seen? Or is my mind conjuring up random images to further haunt me? And if that was a crib, what does that mean? Was Bella trying to have a child before her husband died, or was she already pregnant? If so, where is the child?

Questions. Questions plague me on my drive home.

_Three Months Later_

I hand over the needle and scissors to Gloria so she can sew the patient up and walk out of the OR to clean up. After removing my mask, I immediately begin to wash my hands, scrubbing out. Lena, an intern, sidles up next to me and begins to wash her hands.

"Great surgery, Dr. Cullen. You were amazing," she says suggestively and giggles a little bit.

I contain a groan and tell her thank you, and continue to wash my hands. This is how it is for me. I get hit on a lot at work, which, I must admit, gets annoying. I'm here to save lives and help people, but then there are these people who insist on trying to pick me up after a surgery, or during a surgery, and everywhere in between.

"Good job to you as well, Lena," I tell her and quickly escape through the door. I pray she doesn't follow me; the prayer doesn't work. I pull my phone from my pocket before she has a chance to catch up to me and press the "1" to listen to my voicemail; I have three. The first is from my dad, calling to find out how the surgery went, the second, from Alice, asking about tickets to the symphony that I'm not using, and the third one is the important one. The third message is from Bella, saying she is calling to find out how the surgery went and to call her when I can. I listen to the message one more time, wanting to hear her voice, then delete it. I've come a long way, for several weeks there, I was keeping them all.

I return the call to my dad to let him know that the surgery went well and the infant is doing fine. He asks when I plan to visit again and I tell him that I have to check my schedule, but I have some time off soon. When I finish that call, I quickly send Alice a text to let her know that the symphony tickets are hers. Before I can call Bella, I have to talk to the parents of the infant I just operated on. I sit and talk with the parents for twenty minutes, going over the entire surgery with them and then handing them off to a nurse. I give them my cards and tell them to ask the nurse any questions they have and to also make an appointment with their pediatric cardiologist for follow-up. They will be in the hospital for a while, depending on how long it takes for their child to recover, but it may or may not be me who they will see during their stay.

I finally make my way outside and take in a deep breath of fresh air. It's a cool May day and I'm getting really excited for the summer. It has been a long winter and I'm looking forward to being able to get back to Forks and visit my parents…and Bella more often.

I pull my phone from my pocket and send Bella a quick text message telling her that I will call her as soon as I get home and am showered. I head to the parking garage to get my car and go home.

I wake up shaking and sweating, with the sheet of my bed stuck to me. Another nightmare. I look over at the clock and see that it is almost four o'clock in the morning. I lay there and think about the dream, about the emotions I felt in the dream and the emotions I'm feeling now. It's always the same dream, over and over again. Bella running from the library and then Bella in the water, floating, her hair a halo around her head.

In the dream I don't save her, because one second she is there in front of me, and I reach out to grip her arm, but in the next second, she is gone, pulled away from me by a wave. I swim around in an attempt to find her, coming up out of the water and shouting her name, but she isn't there. I get more air and go back under, and just in that instant, I see her sinking down, down, down. It's always at that point in the dream that I wake up, sometimes yelling for her, and other times not.

I've never told her about the dream, afraid that if I do, she'll feel guilty and she already carries to much guilt. Part of the dream stems from the anxiety I feel from not being close to her; I want to be there for her, yet can't. As time has passed, in these three months, we have gotten much closer, and Bella has begun to confide in me, tell me bits of her history, but she has yet to tell me her real story. I know part of it has to do with that spare bedroom in her house that I carried her from that last night; it has everything to do with it. The story of what happened to her and what she feels ruined her. I want to know what happened to her, feel that without knowing, I can't truly help her until I fully understand and she can't truly help herself, but I don't push her. It will come in time.

I've also asked her on several occasions if she has started seeing a therapist. Anytime I bring it up she says that she has a few in mind, but quickly changes the subject. I have let her get by with it for too long now, and know that I need to have a real long talk with her.

After about ten minutes, I know that I won't be getting back to sleep as I can't seem to shut my brain off. I wander into the kitchen, flip the light on, and prepare the coffee maker to brew. As the coffee starts perking, I head to the bathroom to take a quick shower so I can wake up a bit more…and take care of my usual morning 'problem.'

I quickly wash my hair and body and, because I don't want to have a 'problem' for the remainder of the day, I quickly rub one out. When I step out of the shower the bathroom is steamy and warm. After drying off, I use the towel to wipe down the mirror and throw it into the hamper. The stubble is beginning to grow in along my jaw line and above my lip, so I grab my razor from the cabinet, along with the shaving cream, and make a quick job of removing the itchy growth.

I don't have to work until later in the evening, so I pull a pair of my more lived in jeans from the bottom drawer of my dresser and a plain white t-shirt. I don't bother with socks because I don't plan on leaving the house for some time, and if I can be barefoot, I prefer to be.

I emerge from the bedroom and walk back into the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee and nearly jump out of my clothes. Perched on top of my kitchen island, is Alice, sipping her own mug of coffee.

"Gee, Alice, so nice of you to pay me a visit unbeknownst to me. It's six o'clock in the morning. What are you doing here?" I ask as I fill my coffee mug.

"Hello, Brother. It's nice to see you, too. I actually just flew in from Chicago and was too tired to start driving home, so I thought I'd come here and catch a few z's, but you were already awake when I got here...and the coffee was brewing, so here I am," my sister explains, barely taking a breath.

"What were you doing in Chicago?"

"I'm opening a new store there, and I had to go out and interview a few people for possible new staff," Alice replies, then takes another sip of her coffee.

"Well, congratulations. That's great. How are the wedding plans coming along?"

Alice eyes sparkle a little and I wonder why I just asked that. "They are coming along perfectly. I still have plenty of time, but you know me, I like to get my ducks in a row _way_ ahead of time."

I nod, agreeing with her. "How's Jasper?"

Alice's eyes sparkle even brighter and she smiles. "Great as usual. Oh, before I forget, the Seattle weekend has been rescheduled."

"What are you talking about, Alice. I live in Seattle," I ask, confused.

"Oh, I forgot you weren't in on the initial plan. A group of us are coming to Seattle for some weekend fun. You're invited. Now, I know you live here blah blah blah, but come out with us. You never do anything fun anymore, Edward," Alice says in a pouting tone. She even throws out her bottom lip like a two year old.

"Oh put the lip away, Alice. When is this "Seattle Weekend of Fun?"

"Three weeks from now. Check you calendar," Alice replies.

I nod at her and she looks at me expectantly. "What, now?"

She sighs, flabbergasted, "Of course now, dummy. I don't want you to forget."

I roll my eyes at her and set my coffee on top of the counter and go to retrieve my calendar from my shoulder bag. As I walk into the living room, I look out the window and see the sun's rays beginning to color the sky, but a bit further off a large storm front makes its way toward us. Another day of rain, but that's typical. I don't really mind it as I planned to stay inside most of the day anyway.

"I'm open. I'll just mark the sheet at the hospital to let them know I'll be completely unavailable that weekend so they don't schedule me for on call. I haven't taken any time off for a while, anyway."

Alice lets out a little squeal and claps her hands a couple of times. I snicker and mark my calendar as "family time."

"And before I forget, who all is going to be tagging along for this Seattle Weekend of Fun, Sister?"

Alice noticeably blanches at my question and I grow a bit nervous. "Alice?" I ask her suspiciously.

"Um, you already agreed to go, Edward, so there is no backing out after I tell you, okay?" she pleads.

I run my hand through my hair a couple of times, pushing it back from my face and pulling it a bit out of frustration. I should know better, Alice has always been a tricky little thing, whether it was getting her way with our parents in one way or another, or convincing our high school gym teacher to excuse her from participating in a certain sport she disliked, Alice was sneaky.

"Please, Edward." She throws me the bottom lip again. Did I mention she's conniving? Yeah, she is.

"Fine, Alice, but if the suggested company is not company I particularly care for or can stand, I'm bowing out at the first opportunity, okay?"

Alice smiles again. "First of all, don't be a priss, Edward. And second of all, I guarantee you will enjoy the company."

I don't say anything, just wait for her to tell me.

"It's RoseandEmmettandBella."

She says it so quickly I barely catch the last of the names. I mentally pick out all of the 'ands' from between the names. Rose. Emmett...and Bella. Bella would be coming. There definitely won't be any backing out of this.

I look at Alice again and she has a shit-eating grin on her face. She hops off of the island and heads into the living room, on her way, she calls out, "I'm going to catch a nap. Wake me in a couple of hours."

All of a sudden, I need to get out of the house. I run to my room and change out of my jeans and throw on some loose shorts, socks and my running shoes. I could really use a run before it starts to storm.

* * *

So, I've got one more chapter to write before we have the trip to Seattle…finally! I'm so excited to write those two chapters! Chapter 11 is half written, so I hope to get it to the betas soon. Feel free to click that review button…just sayin ;)


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry this took a little bit longer than I expected. I had some issues with this chapter and had to fix a few things. As always, much love to my betas, Jules & vasweetpea and also to SweetVenom69 for pre-reading and hand holding!

There is also still time to vote for the Golden Lemon Awards. My femme slash fic, The Change-Up has been nominated in the Best Slash category. Vote here…pretty please?

http:/www(dot)kwiksurveys(dot)com/online-survey(dot)php?surveyID=KCOMLN_bd9343f3&UID=2637657624

If any of you like playlists, you can find one for The Underside of Earth on my blog… www(dot)loss4words81(dot)blogspot(dot)com.

Thanks so much to shabbyapples for validating on Twilighted!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or any of the characters, they belong to SM. This story is mine, please don't steal. No copying, translation, or reproduction is allowed without my written authorization. The Underside of Earth 2009-2010 © loss4words

Chapter 11

BPOV

My hands fly over the easel in a blur; color, stroke, a dab of cerulean. My head is a mess of images, repeating and flashing before my eyes paired with hands that don't move quite fast enough.

Too slow. Inadequate. Fail. They're dead. Gone.

My hands continue to paint but my mind is completely elsewhere, wandering back to that day that changed our lives the first time.

_"Are you nervous, Baby?" he asks as he smoothes my hair back on the stiff, hospital pillow that crackles with my every move._

_"A little. What if she can't find the heartbeat or something is wrong with our baby? What will we do if we have a special needs baby, Jake? I can barely cook for you, and clean and everything else, let alone take care of a baby who screams and can't communicate with me. Shit! Babies can't communicate. I'm going to be a horrible mother, Jakey."_

_"Bella. Stop and relax, Baby. Deep breath. The baby is going to be just fine. They just want to know why you have gained as much weight as you have."_

_At that moment, the nurse or whoever does the ultrasound walks in, skinny, beautiful, and smiling radiantly. I want to vomit; the room seems too small all of a sudden as I worry about whether I'm good enough to be a mother, to produce children. Maybe we shouldn't have done this, but it's too fucking late now._

_"Hi, I'm Leigh. How are you two doing today?" she asks in a soothing voice. I relax a fraction._

_"Nice to meet you, Leigh. I'm Jake, and this is my wife, Bella. She's nervous, so be gentle."_

_Leigh chuckles, then responds in a low voice, "Of course. Just try and relax, okay? I have to do an internal since you are not that far along - you know what that means, right?"_

_She looks between the both of us and we both nod. "Yeah, basically, you are going to look at our kid with a giant dildo inside of my wife, right?" Jake asks, in all seriousness. I elbow him in the leg, the nearest body part of his that I can aim at._

_Leigh laughs again but then nods. "Yeah, pretty much. Lets get started, shall we?"_

_I lay my head back on the pillow that really isn't a pillow and Leigh starts the ultrasound. I take a deep breath, then look at the little screen. It's hard to understand what anything means, but I can see the heartbeat and take another deep breath. Our baby has a heartbeat, well, of course it does, but I can see it. I look up at Jake and see tears in his eyes and I grab onto his hand._

_Leigh makes a little noise and I look back at her. "What? Is something wrong?"_

_"Um, I just want to listen to something. I thought I saw something for a second there," she says, then hits a button and turns a knob._

_The room is filled with the sound of a heartbeat, but it sounds like nothing I ever would have expected, more like water rushing and a little bum bum bum. But then, there is an odd little echo, and I can see why Leigh is confused, because I can hear it._

_"What is that echo?" I ask._

_Leigh looks at me, then Jake, and back to me. "Your _other_ baby's heartbeat."_

_I look from the screen to Leigh to Jake, and still looking at Jake, ask the technician, "Other?"_

_But I already know. _Twins. _Oh God, now what am I going to do?_

A car door slams outside of the window and I'm broken from my reverie, or waking nightmare, or memory, whatever you want to call it. The weight of it all crushes me, my fingers twitch and the paint brush clatters to my easel, luckily, not onto the carpet. I pick it back up, slipping it into the paint thinner, but then suddenly feel the venom released from my gall bladder rise up in my esophagus on its way to my throat, and run to the bathroom. I make it just in time to thrust the lid of the toilet up and spew my guts into it. The acid bile that pours out of my mouth and nose makes my eyes burn and my stomach begins to churn. The smell in my nose makes me nauseous all over again and another round of vomiting takes over me.

After a few minutes, my stomach is completely empty although I dry heave several times, nothing but saliva and snot dripping out of me. When I'm totally done, I crawl on weak knees over to the sink and wet down a wash cloth, wiping at my face, nose and mouth. I clean the seat of the toilet then flush it, cleaning out the bowl and erasing my weakness.

With my teeth brushed and mouth rinsed out, I make my way back to the bedroom to clean up my painting and make sure that I haven't created a mess in the bedroom, and of my easel. Walking into the doorway, I stop dead in my tracks and stare at the painting resting on the easel that my hands somehow managed to paint, and without me actually being conscious of it.

Guilt racks my body again but there is another emotion ebbing at the surface. I feel relief, relief that I've finally broken through the barrier of being unable to reconnect to what I enjoy most in my life, but what also pays my bills. My eyes wander over the painting, absorbing every little detail that I somehow put into it. The grief I feel for painting Edward slowly begins to fade, and a small amount of elation seeps in as my eyes roam the canvas. Blues, greens, golds, black and white, sienna, burnt umber. The water makes his hair float around his head, exactly the way it looked that day in the ocean. I've captured him, captured his beauty; I want to both share, and hide it from him; from the world. I feel protective of it, shy, yet emboldened.

I have to hide it. Nobody can ever see it, for seeing it makes it real, and this painting can't be real, at least, not to the world, not to Edward. Showing it to the world would be like running to the graveyard and pissing on my dead husband and childrens' headstone. No, no person can ever see this.

Grabbing the heavy cloth off the floor beside the chair, I quickly cover the painting, making sure none of the wet paint will be smeared by the cloth, then pick up my paint brushes and palette to wash out. After everything is clean and set out to dry, I head to my office to make a quick phone call to Angela and check on her and the studio. I've been a terrible friend and really, need to get back down there and see what all has been going on, but that's just been another thing that I've been incapable of doing. I make a quick stop in the kitchen, refreshing my cup of coffee and head into the office. As I pass through the doorway, I clip my big toe on the door jamb, stubbing it and drawing blood. New swear words that would make both truckers and sailors alike, blush, erupt from my mouth as I hop the rest of the way into the small room and collapse into my rolling chair. The force of my fall propels the chair and me away from the desk and I quickly grab onto the bookcase, to keep from rolling and knocking over my Granny's antique lamp. A book and a stack of old papers fall to the floor as I steady myself on the sturdy shelf and once I'm stopped with no danger of rolling again, I lean over to pick up the mess I've made on the floor.

I should've never stepped foot in my office today. Today of all days. There must be some awful thing that I did in a past life; maybe I was an adulteress or a murder or something even worse, because my luck in life fucking sucks. It's the last article from the shelf that needs to be picked up. How it wasn't thrown out long ago, I'm not sure. The fact is, is that it still remains in my home, on a shelf that I would have cleaned off at some point, but apparently, I'm meant to see it today.

The clutch of a full on panic attack grips me; a roar builds in my ears, making it hard to concentrate on the racing of my heart. I try to remain calm, remembering what happened the last time I had a bad one and force myself to take long pulls of air into my lungs. I know that staying in my house right now is the worst thing that I could do. With as much composure as I can muster, I head back to the kitchen, limping, and dump my coffee into a travel mug. Granted, it's three o'clock in the afternoon, the coffee is necessary, and the pot is now empty anyway. Once the cup is topped off with creamer, I grab my keys and my purse from the counter and head out to my car. I've already calmed down quite a bit, but I have to keep myself from thinking about it. If I think about it, it will only get worse.

It's no wonder I had the memory while painting earlier. It was ebbing in the folds of repressed memories and maybe, somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognized the day, but it took seeing the old calendar to actually draw it from my subconscious. Whenever I blink, I see the words:

_Bella's First Ultrasound 2pm with Leigh! Arrive 15 min. early J_

Flopping into my car, I start the ignition and quickly head out on the road, directing myself toward the one place that I should have gone to a long time ago. My studio has always been like home to me, and I've also avoided Angela for far too long. She has been wonderful, helping me out with the shop since I haven't been able to be there; it's time to talk and to thank her, and maybe give her some paid vacation, too.

The drive goes quickly and as I cross into the Port Angeles city limits, I feel a little bit of anxiety bubble up in my stomach. The last time I was here, was _that day_, when everything changed, when I met Edward, and when my emotional downward spiral finally bottomed out. The anxiety that I currently feel isn't one that leaves me completely immobile and totally scared to do anything, though. While my heart is beating a bit quicker than usual, I'm still relatively calm and that itself is a sign of progress.

With the car parked in the back lot, I head in through the back door, greeting Edna, the woman who owns the shop next to mine. She is talking on her cell phone, but she waves and gives me a grand smile. I've missed Edna, she and I used to have some delightful conversations. I think it's about time to rectify that, maybe not today, but very soon.

Tip-toeing my way into the store, I quietly slip into the back studio area to drop my purse inside the door then peek around the doorway. Angela sits behind the counter talking on the phone and twirling a strand of her long, dark hair around her finger with her glasses perched on top of her head. I wonder at first if she is talking to Ben, her fiancé, but then she opens up the calendar on the counter and starts to jot something down.

Slowly, I edge my way into the room, but stick to the wall, moving behind some of my bigger displays, and waiting for her to end the call. When she is all finished up, in my lightest voice, I say, "Um, yes, I'd like to schedule a viewing, please."

Angela jumps and looks around until she spots me, then squeals really loudly. Now, Angela is not a large person. I myself am pretty petite, but Angela is even smaller than me. In this moment, you wouldn't know it though as she bulldozes into me, enveloping me in a tight embrace.

"Bella! Oh my God!" she exclaims.

I chuckle and squeeze her right back. "Um, I think I should go on extended leave a bit more often. Okay, maybe not. It's really good to see you, Ang."

"You too, Bella, really! I've missed you so much and business has been great."

I smile and nod at her, settling into the seat next to her for the next hour so we can talk. She tells me about what has been going on in the shop, granted, she sends me a report on all sales and interests in my work every week or more often, if necessary, but there are other things that have just gone on needing changes for far too long. Some of the track lighting needs to be switched around and we need to change the floor layout and above all else, she needs more paintings.

When she says this, I swallow thickly and nod once again. "I know. I've finally started painting again, and while, it isn't anything I can sell, I know that I'm ready to dive back into it. It's just been…hard, Ang."

She gives me a small smile and rubs my arm, soothingly. "I know, Bella. Have you talked to anyone, Sweetie?"

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head no. "No, but I'm finally to the point of admitting it to myself that I need to. I have the number of a doctor from the hospital that night, but I haven't worked up the guts to call him."

Angela reaches behind her, sets the cordless phone down on the counter in front of us, and slides it across to sit in front of me. "No better time than the present, Bella," she admonishes.

I take another deep breath, and agree, "I know. I'll do it. I'll call him now."

I run back to my purse and find the business card of the doctor from that night in the hospital. I've been carrying it around with me for so long that it's beginning to wear around the edges a little. Heading back out front, I notice that Ang has moved off to busy herself with some needless work to give me some privacy, so I grab the phone and quickly dial the number. It picks up on the second ring and a female voice answers.

"Psychological Services of Port Angeles, this is Carol, how may I help you?"

"Yes, um, hi. My name is Bella Swan-Black, and I was given a business card at the hospital a few months back. The name isn't on the card and I was wondering if you could help me figure out what doctor it was."

"Hi, Bella. We have three doctors here, and the card that you have is a general office card. There is only one doctor in the office at the moment, but if you can hold momentarily, I can check with him to see if he knows who left you the card."

I mumble its fine and she puts me on hold; I wait and listen to the elevator music playing over the line. She's back within a minute.

"I know this may seem abrupt, but the doctor's next appointment just cancelled. Would you like to squeeze in?"

"Well, um….sure, I guess," I stumble, unsure of what I'm agreeing too. This needs to be done, so I just have to suck it up and do it.

"If you have our card then you have our address here in Port Angeles, so when can we expect you?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes," I tell her.

She quickly replies, "See you then," and hangs up.

Well shit, I forgot to ask what the doctor's name is. I guess I'll find out soon enough.

I talk with Ang for a couple more minutes and notice she is very excited that I have an appointment. As I'm walking out the door, I tell her that she needs to take a vacation and she squeals once again, then the door closes.

The therapist's office is several blocks from my studio so I decide to drive my car, not wanting to arrive sweaty as a result of the day's high temps. Within five minutes I arrive and park my car in the small lot, check my face and hair in the mirror, because honestly, I didn't look before I left home, then head inside. The receptionist greets me and then picks up the phone to tell the doctor that I'm here. I expect her to take me to his office but instead, he walks out of a door left of the receptionist's desk not a minute later.

He is a tall, skinny, handsome man, with blond hair and honest, blue eyes. He sticks his hand out and introduces himself, "Hello, Bella. I'm Dr. Jasper Whitlock. I'm so glad you called. Shall we?" He gestures to his office and I nod, making my way inside.

His office is a large and mostly square room with a door on the far left side of the room. The door is open to show that there's an attached bathroom; I glance around the rest of the room, taking in my surroundings. On the right and left walls, there are tall bookshelves hosting an array of books and my interest is piqued, but I don't want to snoop. The doctor must notice my interest, as he waves his hand toward the bookshelves. "Have a look around; I want you to be comfortable, Bella."

He offers me a warm, sunny smile, immediately putting me at ease and the knot in my stomach releases ever so slightly. I wander along the shelves, scanning Dr. Whitlock's reading material, finding some that I recognize, but most not. He seems to have an interest in history, but there are some in his collection leaving me a slightly confused, as I find several clothing design books amidst the mental health and Civil War books.

I make my way over to the other side of the room, to the other bookshelves, noticing that there are multiple picture frames resting on the shelf. As I move closer, he clears his throat behind me.

"Shall we get started, Bella? I'd like to get to know you a little bit and we only have about forty minutes today," he explains.

With the photographs on the bookshelf forgotten, I turn toward him, smiling, and nod my head. The knot in my tummy tightens back up, but this is something I have to do. I'm ready to do it. I want my life back.

Dr. Whitlock motions to the worn, brown leather sofa that sits near the window, looking out on the water. The shades are drawn half-way up so that the sun doesn't shine directly into the room, yet offers enough of the natural light to filter in. The room feels comfortable in this light and eliminates the need for harsh, fluorescent lighting to be used.

The doctor takes a seat in the burgundy, leather upright chair across from me, holding a pen and notepad. He sinks into the chair, looking like he is more at home then at work, which helps me relax into the sofa.

"So, Bella. I want you to relax. I'm going to start off easy with you and just get to know you a little bit. I'll ask you questions about yourself and if there is anything you are not sure you're ready to answer, just say pass, and I will mark it to come back to at a later time. Does that sound fair to you?"

I nod. "That sounds easy enough," I respond, knowing that he obviously knows a little bit about me already, considering he visited me at the hospital several months ago.

"Okay. Can I get you anything before we get started, Bella? A bottle of water or anything?" he offers.

I nod my head yes, just now realizing how incredibly parched I am. The doctor moves to the other side of desk and retrieves a bottle of water from a hidden fridge, and hands it to me. I open the bottle and take a small drink, instantly relieving my throat.

"Alright. I'm ready," I announce, unsure of where the strength in my voice is coming from.

"Why don't you just start off telling me a little bit about yourself? Where you're from, what you do, what your hobbies are, do you like work…those types of things…" he rambles off as he once again sinks into the chair. He throws his leg over the arm of the chair and I immediately decide that I like Dr. Whitlock.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath in an attempt to center myself and clear my head. Start easy. I can do that. When I open my eyes again, Dr. Whitlock is looking at me, like he is trying to read me, but it doesn't deter me. It isn't an uncomfortable look that leaves me squirming, rather, a comforting, 'I'm here to help you' kind of look.

"My name is Isabella Marie Swan-Black, but I go by Bella. I was born in Arizona but moved to Forks when I was little, after my mother passed away. I have a half-brother Emmett, but I leave out that half part, because I love him to death, and his wife Rose, too…" I watch Dr. Whitlock's lip twitch just a little and he looks away from me and down to the paper.

"Please, continue," he requests without looking back up and scratching something onto the paper.

"My father passed away when I was still in high school and my brother moved up here to be near me. I married my childhood friend a little over two years ago; I met him as soon as I moved here as a child. He…he died in a car accident a little over a year ago, along with the …I…" I begin to choke on my words, not wanting to get to this yet. I'm not ready for this.

Dr. Whitlock reaches for the tissue box and hands it to me. "Take your time. We don't have to get into anything you aren't yet ready for. Why don't you tell me about what you do for a living? Okay?"

I wipe the tears from my eyes and take another sip from the bottle of water. "I'm a painter, as in oil paints. I have a gallery in Port Angeles, which is the reason I'm in town today. I haven't been able to paint for quite some time, and I've been avoiding my shop and my studio, but I know that I need to get back into it. I wanted to talk to my good friend, Angela, who has been running my gallery, and just check and see how things are. I've loved painting since I can remember, and I think I'm pretty good at it. Not being able to paint is really getting to me though. I need to paint. I've actually been working on something very recently."

"That's excellent, Bella. Already a step in the right direction. Can you tell me what brought you here today? What made you make that call only a little while ago?"

I take a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not burst out crying again. "Um. The nightmares. I have nightmares, practically every night, and now, I've started walking around my house in my sleep. My friend Edward was there the last time and he had to carry me back to my bed, and…" I feel my lip begin to quiver and I take a quick swig of water to calm my nerves. I notice Dr. Whitlock writing something and place a huge circle around it, making me slightly self conscious. He looks up at me noticing I've stopped talking, and sees me staring at the paper.

"I'm just jotting down my thoughts along with some questions for a later time. I'm not here to judge you, but simply listen and help in any way I can." He holds the notebook up to me and I see three names on the page: Rose, Emmett, Edward. They all have circles around their names and then off shoots of words and questions he wants to ask me. He also has the word NIGHTMARE written and several dark circles around it.

He flips the notebook back around and sets it face down on the floor beside his chair. He leans back and slightly to the side of his chair; his blond hair squishes up around his head a little as he relaxes. "What do you want to accomplish here, Bella? I want to help you however I can, but you are going to have to be willing to open up, no matter how hard that is. And I'll be honest, you've been through a lot, which obviously, you know. This is going to take time, but you couldn't be in more capable hands. Can I say that about myself?" he asks and chuckles.

I smile and relax against the side of the sofa. He is easy to talk to, laid back, and I don't feel like he will judge me or my problems or my worries. I believe that he wants to help, and that makes me want to accept the help even more.

"Well, my goal, I guess, is to work through my losses. I want to forgive myself for all that has happened, and I'm not sure that's possible, but I want to try. I can't bare the thought of living the rest of my life with the weight of my grief and my guilt sitting on my shoulders. I already feel as though I walk with my feet ankle deep in thick mud. Every step takes so much effort, and I'm so tired of it. Maybe it's too much to ask, but I just want to live again, but therein lies the problem. Why should I get to live? I…"

Dr. Whitlock holds up his hand, stopping me as the tears begin to pool in my eyes yet again. I'm relieved that he has stopped me, not wanting to break down. I grab another tissue from the box and dab at my eyes.

"I think we've gotten plenty far for today, don't you, Bella? I'd like to see you back next week, what do you say?"

"I think that would be a great idea. I feel like I can open up to you, and trust me when I say that that's huge for me. Sorry I'm a blubbering mess, Dr. Whitlock," I offer, standing up from the sofa.

"Nonsense, and please, call me Jasper." He walks me to the door with his warm palm offering me comfort as it rests between my shoulder blades. Jasper has a soothing presence and I'm glad that I made that call only a little while earlier. I find myself immediately looking forward to my next appointment with him.

He opens the door, ushering me out, and speaks to the receptionist. "Carol, could you please schedule Bella another appointment for next week, give her a slot and a half?" Carol nods and immediately begins typing on her keyboard.

"Jasper, your fiancé is on line one," Carol advises him as she continues to type.

"Bella, I look forward to seeing you next week. In the mean time, if you haven't already, I'd like for you to keep a journal, at least once a day, and if you need to, more than that. I'll see you soon." He grips my shoulder than retreats to his office. As I wait for Carol to schedule my next appointment, I think about what kind of woman Jasper would be engaged to; I wonder if she's as laid back as he is.

Carol hands me my appointment card and I quickly escape the little office out into the early evening sun. It is beginning to lose its warmth, but leaves splashes of crimson and orange hues along the horizon. I quickly dig in my purse, searching for my point and shoot while memorizing the colors, needing to make the image permanent on canvas.

Just as I pull into my driveway, my phone begins to ring. I shift the car into park and go purse diving because it's a bottomless pit and my phone has a tendency to find the one corner of my purse that I can never reach. I locate it at the end of the fourth ring and hit the send button just before it goes to voicemail.

"Gee, thanks so much for taking my call. Seattle is this weekend. Your going bitch, I don't want to hear it." Click.

"Well, it was nice to talk to you too, Rose," I say to my silent phone as I unlock my front door, and let myself inside.

A/N: Okay. The next few chapters are going to lighten up a bit, but also get a little heavy. Heavy? Me? Who knew! We have EPOV up next! Thanks for reading and please, click and leave me some love?


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: OMG. I'm so sorry this one took me so long. I had a hard time working this chapter out, but alas, it is here. Um, I have a fun 80's playlist on my profile that goes along with this chapter. Let's just say that Emmett likes his '80s. ;) As usual, much love to my lovely ficancee SweetVenom69 for holding my hand and just loving me in general. If you aren't reading her fic, Bittersweet Irony, run now and read!

Also, I've put links on my profile of where the clan is staying in Seattle for this weekend as well as a link of the freaking awesome bowling alley they are at. Go look!

A huge thanks to CereuleanBlue for looking at this chapter for me and doing the beta work. And my greatest thanks to shabbyapple for being the best Twilighted validator ever! Seriously, you are amazing!

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EPOV

I pull into the parking lot of _Acme Bowling, _the second bowling alley I've been to tonight since Alice directed me to the wrong place, find a parking spot and shut off my car. Like most of the last three days, my head is filled with images of Bella and what I could possibly say to her. I mean, it should be fine, right? We've been talking on the phone everyday, sometimes several times a day. We're friends, and we confide in each other a great deal; mostly me talking about work and her talking about painting. Several times I've asked her questions about Jake and her past; she politely turns the topic of conversation elsewhere and that is that. I don't want to pry and cause her anymore sadness, so I let it go even though I'm very curious.

How long will she keep me in the dark like this? It seems that everyone else in our little group knows, except for me. Of course Jasper knows, because he has been seeing her for therapy appointments, and Alice knows because now she talks to Rose regularly, on top of being engaged to Jasper. Alice has tried to talk to me about it once or twice, but on every occasion I've stopped her. Whatever has happened to Bella, I want to hear from Bella, and I want her to tell me when and if she is ready to. Everyday I hope that she trusts me a little more, eventually enough to want to confide in me and let me truly help her.

I walk up to the counter to give both Whitlock and Cullen, not knowing what name Alice put the reservation under, and retrieve my shoes. The guy behind the counter informs me that we have one of the private lanes and points me in the direction of our reserved area. Leave it up to Alice; she can never do anything the normal (read: cheap) way, even if it is just bowling. Everything is taken to an extreme with her, but as I walk through a small hallway and around a corner, I exhale with relief that she has splurged this time.

Before me is a large room, and quite possibly, the nicest bowling alley I have ever set foot it. Not that that is some major feat, but it's incredibly classy. All of the upper lights in the place are turned down, and I walk past people bowling, chatting, drinking and just having a good time. There are blue lights that line the walls, giving a bit of a disco-y feel and large screens at the end of each lane with music videos dancing across them. Several couches and chairs covered in retro patterns sit behind each lane, and the lights on the ceiling cast yellow-green lights around the room. The lanes are white with black detailing for contrast.

I sift through the people, counting lane numbers as I go, finally coming up on my, so-far small, group. Before I approach them, I take a moment to take in the scene and, if I'm completely honest, to watch Bella. Emmett is standing at the head of the lane taking practice rolls or bowls, or whatever it is you call it, while Rose perches over a small desk, programming everyone's name in for the game. Over on the black suede couch, Bella finishes tying the laces of her bowling shoes which, by the way, look absolutely perfect on her and retrieves her ball from the tray. She walks over to Emmett, and I make my way over to Rose to say hi. I watch Bella swing her right arm, ball in hand, a couple of times to loosen it up. Just as she pushes it back the third time, Rose greets me, and my attention is stolen from Bella.

"Hello, Rose. It's good to see you again."

In the next second, there is a loud bang and the sound of Bella exclaiming, "Oh shit!"

Her ball goes rolling backward, and she quickly turns, bending at the waist to retrieve it. Emmett doesn't lose a second before poking fun at Bella, immediately shouting something about throwing balls around and the lane being the other way. I can't really focus on what he says, continuing to watch Bella and waiting for her to turn around to acknowledge me.

A part of me wonders if she hadn't known I was coming, but I don't think that Rose would do that to her. Yet, maybe she would. Slowly, Bella straightens up, carrying her ball to the rack, and gently sets it down. She fumbles with it a little before finally peeking through the hair that is partially covering her face and over to me. I give her a calm, soothing smile, and she bites her lip. Watching her do that does something to me, but now isn't the time to dwell on it.

I walk the few feet over to her, and she finally straightens up, looking me in the eyes.

"Ahhh, I, uh, didn't realize you were going to be here, Edward. Not that that's not okay, because it is...I was just, ah, startled," she stammers through, turning a shade of red so vibrant that I can even see it through the dim lighting.

I smiled broadly at her, leaning down to her ear so only she can hear me. "Why the nerves, Bella? It's just me, and we've been talking on the phone for months now." I grip her shoulder gently, attempting to give her any assurance I can.

She returns my smile a little, and something about it both breaks my heart and makes it leap at once. I pull her to me and envelop her in my arms, pouring as much confidence through my arms and into her as I can. She turns her face so her cheek rests against my chest, and I sit my chin on the top of my head. Out of the corner of my eye I see Emmett gaping at us, and then Rose kicks him in the shin. I chuckle, and Bella pulls away, asking, "What?"

"Nothing, just Emmett getting in trouble again," I explain, as she moves completely way from me. Just at that moment I'm tackled at the waist; I pitch forward a little, caught off guard, but regain my balance.

I look down to see small hands enveloping my midsection, and knowing who they belong to, I pry them apart, turning around.

"Hello to you too, Alice." I look over to Jasper, nodding in welcome. He nods back at me, before looking over at Bella with a concerned expression on his face. I turn to look at her, and see that the color in her face has drained completely away leaving her as pale as a ghost.

I take a step closer to her and grip her arm, ready to take her pulse or something, because being that pale can't be good. "Are you okay?" I ask her quietly, glancing back to Alice and Jasper.

"Dr. Whitlock? What are you doing here? What's going on?" Bella asks, looking from person to person, her distress beginning to register on her face.

Jasper walks over to her and helps Bella sit slowly on the small couch she had occupied earlier. He sits down beside her, and the rest of us uneasily take the closest seats. I keep my eyes on Bella, noticing that she is beginning to get some color back into her cheeks, but her fists are clenched. She looks more than a little defensive.

Jasper speaks first. "Well, Bella, it's obvious that nobody told you who I am and that I would be here. I can imagine that this would be a bit awkward for you."

"Having my therapist for a weekend of _fun_? Yeah. You could say it's a bit awkward," Bella replies in a slightly acidic voice. I can't say I blame her.

Across from me, Rose stands up and huffs, walking over to Bella and Jasper and kneeling down.

"This is my fault. I didn't tell her, and I should have. Look, Bella, Jasper is my cousin, and Alice, his fiancée, is Edward's sister. I didn't even think to tell you that they were coming because I had no idea you were even seeing Jasper for therapy. Honest, I swear. I would have told you! You know this." Rose moves a little closer to Bella and touches her arm. "This is supposed to be a fun weekend, Sweetie. You really need some fun, and this was an honest mistake. Really, Jasper and Alice are fun. Let's just have fun, please?"

I look around at everyone. All eyes are on Bella and Jasper, except for Emmett's, who is intently studying his ball and poking his fingers in the holes. I look back to Bella and see that her color has returned to normal. She places her hand on Rose's head and pets it a little, which elicits a snarl from Rose.

"Sure thing, Rosie. A fun weekend. Um, Jasper, I guess this will help with the therapy a little? Maybe?" Bella asks as she meets my gaze. I give her a reassuring smile, and she looks away to Alice. "And I don't believe we met, Alice. I'm Bella, Emmett's sister and Rose's sister-in-law..." she pauses and takes a deep breath, "...and Jasper's patient or client or whatever therapists call it."

In true Alice form, she jumps forward, throwing her arms around Bella's shoulders. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Bella. I've heard a lot about you already," Alice admits, and I unsuccessfully stifle a groan.

Bella's eyebrow quirks up and she asks, "Oh really? And who has been telling you about me?"

"Oh, Edward of course," Alice responds like that is completely common knowledge, then walks away to retrieve her bowling shoes, which, by the way, are her own.

The first hour of bowling goes by slowly because the atmosphere is a bit tense, but that all changes at ten o'clock. The lights shift to a reddish color, and we are hit with an onslaught of 80's (music). All of a sudden, Emmett jumps up and stands on one of the little chairs, belting Blondie's "Call Me" at the top of his lungs. The sad part of it is that he actually sounds pretty close to the high-pitch singer, and our group breaks out into a fit of laughter. Parties surrounding us point and laugh, and finally, the tension is broken. Rose swats at Emmett, yelling for him to get down while Bella and Alice tell him to strip.

Did I mention we're all drinking? Yeah.

I watch Bella finally relax, and when _Venus_ by Bananarama comes on, all three girls stand up on the small ottoman and begin to sing and dance with each other. All three girls know every word to the song, and as the chorus comes up, Rose turns to sing to Emmett as Alice turns to sing to Jasper. Rose and Alice sing, shaking their hips; Bella turns toward me to stare at my feet.

_She's got it_

_Yeah, baby, she's got it_

_I'm your Venus, I'm your fire_

_At your desire_

My heart feels like it could pound out of my chest at any moment. Watching her up there, dancing and swaying, I realize Bella has a sexy body, and she can dance. I always found her beautiful, but this is the first time that I've actually found her sexy. Immediately, I realize that I really _want_ her. _At your desire_, indeed.

Her eyes finally find my face, and I smile at her, encouraging and supporting as much as I can. I think she realizes that the alcohol is really affecting her, and I see a cloud form behind her brown eyes, almost making them blacken. The realization that she is again, closing off, makes my chest hurt.

The song ends, and she quickly gets down from the ottoman, going over to sit by her brother. I want to talk to her, but her long hair wraps around her body, like a cape, and hides her face from mine, closing her off from the world. I watch them talk. While Emmett is quite animated, arms flailing and gesturing, Bella laughs often at things he says, but I can't see her face. Every once in a while, when she thinks I'm not paying attention, she sneaks peaks at me. I pretend not to see or notice, not wanting to make her feel awkward or embarrassed.

As we get on closer to midnight, one of my favorite songs comes on: _All I Want Is You _by U2. Alice squeals and quickly runs over to Jasper, wraps her arms around his neck, and begins to sway. Rose and Emmett snuggle together on the couch and I look over at Bella, sitting alone and looking utterly broken. I stand up and take two steps toward her, but in the next instant she stands and quickly walks off toward the bar. I glance over at Emmett, and he's watching her. He breaks his gaze to look at me and quirks his eyebrow at me. They seem to be asking "Well, are you going to get her or what?"

Bella sits on a white stool at the bar, sipping at a bottle of water when I finally walk up behind her. I don't know what to say or do to make her feel better, to make her feel that she can't give up on life, and on love, because if she does, then she gives up on me. I don't even know if she wants me.

_You say you'll give me_

_Eyes in a moon of blindness_

_A river in a time of dryness_

_A harbour in the tempest_

I place my hand, palm down, against the middle of her back in between her shoulder blades, unmoving. Her body quivers slightly under my touch, but she doesn't say anything or turn to look at me.

_You say you want_

_Your love to work out right_

_To last with me through the night_

I move my hand to her shoulder, slowly spinning her on the barstool until she is facing me. She looks down at her feet, and I see the drops of her salty tears forming dark, wet splotches of sadness on her jeans. I place my finger under her chin, gently pushing against it to bring her eyes to mine. She does it reluctantly, and I wipe away the tear trails on her cheeks and nose. She slowly blows out a breath of air and whispers the next part of the song:

_All the promises we break_

_From the cradle to the grave_

_When all I want is you_

Her voice cracks on the words cradle and grave, and her eyes open up like flood gates. I quickly whisk her up in my arms and carry her back to the rest of the group. Emmett takes her from me and walks toward the exit with Rose following.

"What happened, Edward?" Alice asks.

I shake my head, not knowing and saying nothing.

"Come stay at the hotel with us. Your place is too far from here for you to drive." Alice states as she slides her arm through mine, pulling me through the door. I don't argue, wanting to be as close to Bella as possible tonight.

The drive to the hotel is subdued. Alice and Jasper quietly talk in the front of the car, but I'm too distracted to even care what they're talking about. The only thing on my mind is Bella. Bella, Bella, Bella. I need to talk to her. There are so many things that I don't know, that I _need_ to know. How will I know how to help her, how to get on with her life, if she keeps hiding things from me? I can understand that it's hard for her to talk about it, but if she doesn't, she will never get better, never be able to carry on with her life.

I can't deny that I want to be a part of her life, a part of her future. Ever since that night that I rescued her from her nightmare, I've known it. It started slow, me just wanting to be there to help her get through all of it, but then as time went on and we began talking on the phone nearly every day, something changed. I've changed in some fundamental way, and so has she. Even in these last two weeks, she has lightened up a great deal. She jokes with me, teases me, _flirts_ with me. She gets lighter and lighter each day, but then tonight, her eyes dimmed, and I saw that old darkness, that pain, seep back in like ink polluting water.

In the hotel lobby, Alice and Jasper get their room keys, and I quickly get my room and key. Since I didn't have a reservation, I've had to take a bit more expensive of a room, not that I care. I'm two floors above everyone else; I wonder where Bella is sleeping, if she has her own room, or if she is sharing with Rose and Emmett.

I let Alice and Jasper off at their floor and take the elevator up to the fifth floor. In my room, everything seems so quiet - too quiet. I walk out onto my balcony to look out over the water, feeling an empty ache in my chest. I have no idea where Bella is right now. She is in this hotel with me - so close yet so far away. I run back into the room and over to the bedside table where I have my phone charging, quickly dialing Alice's number from memory.

She sounds breathy when she picks up, and I don't even want to think about what I'm interrupting.

"Yes?" she asks sounding annoyed and out of breath.

"What room are the others in?" I ask pointedly.

"Bella is with Emmett and Rose in 3849," she responds, hanging up abruptly. Hmmm, I must be pretty obvious. I pick up the hotel phone and dial the room.

Emmett answers, "Hello?"

"Hey Emmett, could I speak to Bella?" I swallow, suddenly nervous.

"She took off for a walk, Edward. I told her not to leave the hotel, but she needed to think. Would you check on her for me?" he asks, sounding like he is talking around a mouthful of food.

I quickly reply yes and hang up the phone before I grab my room key and my cell. I head out of the room and to the elevator but have no idea where to start. I hit "L" for lobby and decide to start at the bottom and work my way up.

I walk around for a while, looking everywhere I can think of. I look on most floors but don't find her, so I finally just decide to make my way back down to the lobby. Maybe she needed some fresh air and decided to go for a walk outside. I'll ask the front desk if it's okay for me to play the baby grand I saw on the far side of the lobby and just watch the door. If she doesn't come back, I'll ring Emmett so we can figure out what to do.

After getting permission to play the piano, I settle onto the bench and lightly trail my fingers over the keys, warming up and getting to know the instrument. The piano sits at an angle, and I have a good view of the front door but not much else. I work my way through a couple of pieces, not really feeling them, but watching the door instead. An unease begins to settle into my gut, and just as I decide to quit and shut the cover of the piano, her voice rings out from behind me.

"Please, don't stop. I like watching your fingers and the way they move over the keys. It's mesmerizing."

I turn around to look at her. She looks disheveled, and her shoulders slump forward a little. "Bella. I've been so worried. Are you okay? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the bowling alley, I didn't mean to." Words feel like marbles in my mouth.

"Play something for me?" she asks around the fingernail that she is gnawing on.

I reach my hand over to her mouth and pull her finger away, laying her hand in her lap. She takes a deep breath and meets my eyes with a decided look.

"What do you want to hear?" I ask, turning back around on the bench.

"Anything," she says behind me. I open the lid back up, place my fingers on the keys, and play the song that reminds me of her...of us.

And I sing to her...

_I don't get many things right the first time_

_In fact, I am told that a lot_

_Now I know all the wrong turn, the stumbles and falls_

_Brought me here_

I hear her sniffle behind me.

_And where was I before the day_

_That I first saw your lovely face?_

_Now I see it everyday_

_And I know_

_That I am_

_I am _

_I am _

_The luckiest_

She comes and sits down beside me on the bench, our sides touching. I can feel her warmth and smell the Seattle air on her skin. I want to run my fingers across her lips, but I continue to play.

_What if I'd been born fifty years before you _

_In a house on a street where you lived?_

_Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike_

_Would I know?_

I look at her, and she smiles then, rolling her eyes at me - an attempt to dispel the chemistry that she fights against and that I welcome.

_And in a wide sea of eyes_

_I see one pair that I recognize_

I watch her - our eyes connect on the next lyric, and I hold her gaze, demanding that she look at me.

_And I know_

_That I am_

_I am  
I am_

_The luckiest_

I look back to the keys and finish the rest of the song, making light of the meaning in the rest of it as much as possible, not wanting to scare her away. I feel her head lightly rest against my shoulder as I play.

_I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you_

_Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties_

_And one day passed away in his sleep_

_And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days_

_And passed away_

_I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong_

_That I know_

_That I am_

_I am _

_I am_

_The luckiest_

Neither of us want to move or say anything at first. I close the cover once again, and after a couple of minutes, I swing on the bench so that I have one leg on both sides of it, and she sits across from me, our faces matched. Once again, she is looking down. Her eyebrows are drawn together, and I can tell she wants to say something, so I wait. I study the curve of her neck that I have never seen in this light before, and the way her hair grows along her neckline, curling into small tendrils from the humidity of the Seattle night. It's incredibly sexy, and I clench my fingers to keep from reaching out to touch them.

"I have a story to tell you," she says in an almost whisper. She looks up and stares into me - through me - like she is memorizing every detail of this moment. Her teeth capture her lip, and I want to pull it free but let her work through her words and thoughts.

"Everyone else that is important to me knows this already, Edward. It's not that I was keeping this from you on purpose, but if you didn't know, then you were the one person I could trust to not pick apart every little thing I say and do and relate it to my past. That was important to me. It still is, but...you deserve to know, and I'm finally ready to tell you."

She starts to say something else, but her throat catches. She looks like she is about to cry, so I take her hands and hold them in mine. I don't run soothing circles like I want to, because I don't want to distract her. I just want to know that I want to support her anyway I can. It works. She takes a deep breath, and she tells me her story.

"Jake and I married young. Younger than we should have, but we were happy and in love. He was my family. Emmett hadn't yet moved up here with Rose and I was mostly alone if I wasn't out at La Push."

"Jake wanted a big family, which, to be honest, scared me. I knew that I wanted kids someday, but I didn't want them right away. Jake said he would give me some lee-way on that, and we vowed to have fun for a couple of years before we started trying to conceive. It didn't work out that way. I became pregnant anyway, not long after we were married. I was scared to death and pretty upset about it. It wasn't that I didn't want a child, it was just too soon, but Jake was ecstatic. I didn't want to ruin it for him, so I tried to be happy for him."

"Then I had the ultrasound. It showed two beating hearts inside of me instead of one, and I knew that our lives were definitely changing. As soon as I heard those heartbeats, I was okay with being pregnant. I finally accepted it, was even_ happy _about it. Jake totally doted on me all the time and would go to get me all sorts of odd things in the middle of the night to satisfy my cravings."

"And that's how it happened. That's how my life changed in a minute. I mean really, who craves ice cream in the middle of winter? I decided to ride along with him so I could deposit a letter in the mail. We had been at a four-way stop, and there was a vehicle off to the left that looked like it was slowing down. Jake applied pressure to the gas, but the tires spun a little due to the icy roads. He had to ease off a little before we finally got moving. I told him maybe we should just go back home, and he looked at me and rolled his eyes."

"And then I saw it - the lights of the truck behind him and almost on top of us. It struck us, and I don't remember much after that."

"I lost Jake, and I lost our twins. A part of me died that day."

By the time she finishes her story, I feel the tears thick and heavy in my eyes, not quite spilling over yet. I never cry, but what she has been through is incredibly poignant. My heart breaks a little for her. I know I should say something, but I'm afraid to.

She squeezes my hand and a tear spills over. Just one. While hers come down in the form of torrential rain. I pull her to me then and move my legs together, sitting her on my lap and cradling her close to me as she cries. I smooth her hair away from her face as she rests on my chest and I hum the song that I'd just sung and played for her twenty minutes ago.

The scent of her hair and skin fills my senses, and in this moment, I fall in love with Bella. Her scent swirls, twists, and shimmers like ribbon through my blood and shoots like sparks out the ends of my fingertips and toes. I won't ever feel right again if I don't have her in my life, at my side. I love her.

I love her.

_"_Edward," she whispers.

I take a deep breath and stand her up, then get to my feet, sliding the bench in close to the piano, before I walk her toward the elevators.

We both step onto the elevator, and I keep one of her hands in mine, drunk from the feel of her skin on mine.

"I'm on the third floor," she tells me.

I look down at her and shake my head. "No, you're on the fifth, with me."

She gives me a little smile, and I pull my hand from hers to wrap my arm around her. She snuggles into my side, and I know that I won't be letting her out of my arms much for the rest of the night.

I let Bella and I into _our_ room and point her in the direction of the bathroom. She doesn't have any clothes with her since she was rooming with Emmett and Rose, so I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from my bag, handing them to her. She gives me a wry smile before padding off into the bathroom. I change into another t-shirt and a pair of shorts, grab two bottles of water from the mini-fridge, and sit down on the bed.

Bella emerges a few minutes later looking the sexiest I've ever seen her, wearing my oversized t-shirt that hangs almost to her knees and my sweat pants that look like the waist has been rolled over several times, through the shirt. The hair lining her forehead looks damp and her face fresh; her expression seems nervous.

"Are you tired? Do you want to go to sleep? Or watch TV for a little while?" I ask, feeling nervous myself.

"Um, I'm pretty wiped out. I think I'd like to just go to bed - if that's alright with you?" She grips the edge of the shirt, and I look away as a sliver of her skins peeks through. I don't want to stare, although I could fantasize for hours about her skin just from that one quick look.

I get up from the bed and point to the bedside table. "There's some water for you. I'll just be on the couch if you need me."

While I'd much rather be sleeping on the bed with her, I don't want to impose. I invited her to stay here with me, but I don't want to think I'm being pushy and expecting to sleep next to her or make her feel uncomfortable. While I'd really love to sleep next to her again, I don't know if that's what she wants.

I get as comfortable as I can on the couch and cover up with a small throw blanket. Bella shuts the light off, and I can hear her rustling in the bed. My mind travels at a million miles an hour, wondering what she is thinking about and if she is okay. Most of all, it dwells on her close proximity. I groan, but clear my throat, trying to cover up the sound. As I roll over onto my side, I hear her quiet voice.

"Edward?" she asks timidly and turns the lamp back on.

"Yes, Bella?" The bed is so big it looks like it's swallowing her.

"Do you think...ahh. Um, you can sleep on the bed with me, if you want to." She turns her face away from me, but not before I can see the blush stain her cheeks, even at this distance.

Relief washes over me, and I quickly make my way over to her, wrap her up in my arms, and rest my chin on her head. "Of course, Bella." I walk over to the right side of the bed, knowing she sleeps on the left, and crawl under the covers. She follows suit, and when she is comfortable, I turn the lights off. I hate not being able to see her face, but after a few minutes of my eyes adjusting to the dark, I begin to see the outline of her body afforded by the dim light coming in through the windows.

She sniffles in the dark room, and I slowly raise my hand out to her, searching for her face in the night and hoping not to poke her in the eye. My fingers find her cheek without injury, feel the wetness, and wipe it away. I shush her.

"Come here," I tell her, and she wriggles closer to me, now nestling into my side. I feel like I'm in heaven.

She shakes in my arms a little as she cries, but after a while, it drops off, so I think she is sleeping. Just as I begin to drift, she speaks.

"Edward? Kiss me?"

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A/N: Stay tuned for the next chapter and the second night in Seattle…it promises to be much more fun than this one, I promise!


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